You're In My Veins
by KissedByTheFire
Summary: An alternative take on the events of 2x20, in which Quinn leaves the bathroom after slapping Rachel, and instead, Brittany finds her crying in the bathroom stall. Eventual Faberrittana relationship.
1. Prom Queen

Brittany pushed her way into the girls bathroom, sweat lacing her forehead as she giggled delightedly. She was about to splash some cool water over her boiled skin when she heard it; the distinctive sound of a female crying. The blonde looked up from the sink and glanced at her frazzled reflection in the mirror.

She had spent most of the night dancing with other people's dates, and between that and trying to keep Santana calm after losing prom queen, Brittany was happy to admit she couldn't wait to go home and snuggle up in bed next to Lord Tubbington.

The sobbing had quietened when she had entered. Brittany turned, lifting up the skirt of her dress as she bent at the knee and peaked under the bathroom stalls. On the third stall down, she found her.

Rachel Berry.

Brittany wasn't too sure it was the small diva at first, but once she had saw the pink ruffles of her dress, she was certain.

The blond stood straight once more, smoothing out her dress, and knocked on the stall's door. "Rachel?" she called.

The sobbing immediately stopped.

Brittany knocked again. "It's Brittany," she said, leaning her side against the door. "What's wrong, Rachel?"

More silence followed.

The blonde sighed. "If you're not going to come out, then I suppose I'll have to stand out here until you do. And that would be a real shame, because I was really looking forward to seeing Santana perform tonight."

Another moment passed before Rachel replied, "What do you want?"

"I want to talk."

"Talk, or humiliate me?"

"I don't want to humiliate you." Brittany shook her head. A uneasy feeling passed through her body. She didn't understand why Rachel would think she wanted to humiliate her. "I just want to talk - I promise. I'll even pinky swear!"

The blonde knelt down once more and stuck her pinky finger through the small gap in the bottom of the door. Seconds later, she felt a finger wrap around her own and do a small shake before pulling back. Brittany smiled, standing back to her feet as the stall door opened.

The sight of the small diva on the other side made Brittany's heart shatter. "Oh, sweets, what happened?" Brittany asked gently, coaxing the smaller girl towards the sinks.

Rachel's left cheek was swolen, an angry shade of red; her eyes puffy as tears tracked down her cheeks. The smaller girl shook her head, words catching in her throat.

The blonde sighed and reached behind Rachel to grab some hand towels. She ran one under the cold tap and brought it up to rest against Rachel's inflamed cheek. The brunette flinched upon contact, an action that left Brittany hating herself a tiny bit, but settled once she was sure Brittany was only trying to help. Brittany let Rachel hold the wet towel while she grabbed a dry one and tried her best to salvage the diva's make-up.

Once Brittany was finished, she put the paper towels in the waste basket and turned to the brunette. "Why don't you tell me what happened?" she asked.

Rachel looked hesitant, her wet eyes shielded behind a wall of uncertanty.

The blonde sighed, blowing through her lips as she leaned back against the sinks. "Looks like I won't get to see Santana perform," she mumbled.

Rachel took the wet paper towel from her cheek and placed it on the side of the sink. She looked up at Brittany, her eyes pained, and sighed. "Tonight was supposed to be perfect," she started, leaning against the sinks close to Brittany. "Jesse was supposed to be perfect. But, I guess perfect is only reserved for fairytails."

The blonde looked at the smaller girl. "What went wrong?"

"Finn," Rachel spat. "Finn went wrong. I used to think that I loved him, that he was my forever...but now I see the illusion was all in my head. It was just a silly school girl crush that blinded me from seeing the truth - Finn isn't nearly as perfect as the picture that I paint of him."

"What did he do? You know, besdies being the usual idiot." Brittany giggled. The blonde felt a jolt through her chest when she saw Rachel's mouth turn up at the corners just the smallest amount.

"He decided that he wanted me back," Rachel said, her features blank. "I think now, though, I finally see what Finn's problem is. He doesn't like seeing me happy. He doesn't want me, but no one else can have me. Because he wants me to stay the same girl I was a year ago, who only had eyes for him and would have done anything - for him."

"Boys are stupid," Brittany supplied. "Finn is stupid."

"Yes, well now I have no date." Brittany glanced at the shorter girl and Rachel supplied, "Jesse and Finn got into a fight which resulted in Sue kicking them out. And now Quinn blames me for her not getting prom queen. She hates me. Everyone hates me."

"I don't hate you," Brittany said, smiling down at the shorter girl. Rachel tried to smile back, but Brittany could sense it was forced, like she didn't believe a word the blonde had said. "So, I'm guessing that's what happened to your face: Quinn slapped you?"

Rachel nodded in response.

Brittany felt her heart shatter as she stared at the broken girl before her. She was mad at Quinn for slapping her, but mostly, Brittany was mad at herself for ever letting anyone wipe Rachel Berry's megawatt smile off her face. It didn't seem right when Rachel was sad.

"I just," Rachel stuttered. "I just wanted one night where I felt special, where I felt wanted."

Eventually, as Brittany decided she couldn't handle seeing Rachel's pain any longer, she reached out and grabbed the smaller girl's hand. At first, the brunette was startled, her barriers quickly building back up as she stared at the blonde in bewilderment. But as Brittany laced her fingers through Rachel's, a sincere smile warming across her face, she felt the small diva relax some.

"Tonight isn't over," Brittany declared, swinging their interlaced hands between them. The blonde felt a low flutter in her stomach at the contact of their skin.

Rachel stared at their entwined hands. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, there's still one last song and I won't be happy if you miss it. I'm asking you to dance with me, Rachel." Brittany tugged at the brunette's hand, slowly coaxing her towards the door.

"But, Santana-"

"Santana will be busy singing, and I'm tired of stealing other people's dates. If anything, you'll be doing me the favour." Rachel still did not budge. "Please," Brittany whined. "Don't make me beg, Rach."

Brittany felt Rachel's entire body stiffen at the sound of the nickname. The blonde paused, her heart rate excellerating as she wondered if she'd gone too far, too quickly.

But then Rachel did something unexpected.

She smiled. A wide, blinding smile that awakened the butterflies in Brittany's stomach and took her breath away.

"Okay," Rachel said.

Brittany giggled and pulled Rachel out of the girl's bathroom. The two girl's entered into the gymnasium, Brittany tugging at Rachel's hand to hurry her along. They shoved through crowds of people, heading towards the middle of the dance floor, as the intro for _Dancing Queen_ sounded through the stereo's.

The entire student population was gathered around the middle of the dance floor as they watched Kurt and Karofsky face one another off. Brittany pulled to a stop once she had gotten to the front of the crowd and Rachel came to a stop beside her, their hands still entwined.

The blonde couldn't make much sense of the scene before her, and even less of what Karofsky said before he walked away from Kurt, shoving through the crowd to leave.

But then suddenly Blaine was standing next to Kurt, his hand outstretched as he asked, "May I have this dance?"

Kurt smiled and took Blaine's outstretched hand, and slowly they began to dance. Brittany cheered and Rachel clapped beside her, laughing.

As Santana and Mercedes started to sing, Brittany turned to Rachel and outstretched her hand. "May I have this dance?" she asked.

The tiny brunette laughed, making the imaginary butterflies in Brittany's stomach dance once more, before grasping her hand. Brittany laughed as she twirled Rachel out onto the dance floor. They pulled alongside Kurt and Blaine, who smiled at them curiously before going back to their own dance.

The world around Brittany seemed to blur, the music drownding out as suddenly the only thing she could focus on was the brunette in front of her; the beautiful, talented, amazing, yet strange and wonderful girl named Rachel Berry.

The blonde picked up Rachel's arms and draped them over her shoulders, and wraped her own arms around the brunette's slim waist, pulling her body closer.

Behind Rachel's head, Brittany saw Santana looking at them with a heated intensity. Quinn, who danced beside her, noticed this too and turned to look in their direction. Her lips immedietly turned down as she exchanged a confused look with Santana.

Brittany felt a deep swirl in her gut. She didn't want either girls to be angry with her, she couldn't stand the thought. But she pushed her own feelings aside for one night as she decided to focus on the small girl she held in her grasp.

And it was in that moment that Brittany decided this: she never wanted to see Rachel Berry cry again.


	2. Funeral

**Due to the amazing response I've gotten from chapter one (seriously, you guys are awesome) I decided to post this chapter in appreciation for your wonderful comments, follows, reads and favourites. I never expected such a positive response, especially since I only posted yesterday, so, thank you, and I'd love to know what you guys think of this chapter!**

Brittany was sure she was losing her mind; and, not in an entirely awful way. She knew she had always liked Rachel, but the blonde was almost certain it was purely platonic. Sure, she would be the first to admit that she thought the tiny diva was beautiful, but her feelings had never existed outside of a friendly relationship.

Until now.

It was as though one night had changed everything. She couldn't explain the feeling - but it felt almost chemical, as if a hunger deep inside of her had fixed itself into her bones, and now, begged for release. Whenever she was around Rachel something deep inside of her would stir to life, connecting into place as though it had always been apart of her. Even the mention of the smaller girl's name would spur a bout of happiness inside of her, leaving her feeling whole.

No, Brittany couldn't explain it. But she wasn't entirley certain she wanted it to be explained.

But the blonde did know precisely one thing: Rachel Berry had one hell of a body.

 _It was a couple of days after prom, as Brittany was trying to pass some time before class started, when she ran into Rachel for the first time since that night. The brunette stood by her locker, boxed in by two large football players that held slushy's in their hands._

 _Brittany immediately stopped her wandering, her cheerleading skirt bristling against her thighs. She watched the scene from a distance as Rachel turned to face her assailants with a bold face, crossing her arms over her chest. Ryan, the taller of the two jocks, gestured to the slushy in his hand as he said something to the short diva. Rachel frowned, replying with something that Brittany assumed to be a witty retort._

 _The blonde could see the football players closing in on Rachel, slowly moving closer to her as their hands simultaneously gripped their slushy cups. Finally, Brittany decided she had seen enough and moved over to stand beside Rachel. The tiny diva looked up at her in bewilderment, her mouth gaping as words failed her. Brittany thought it was cute - she had sucessfully made Rachel Berry speechless, a hard task to complete._

 _"What are you doing?" Brittany asked innocently._

 _"Playing a little game with Berry here," Ryan replied, jiggling the slushy in his hand._

 _Brittany smiled. "Can I play?"_

 _Shaun, the smaller of the jocks, glanced at Ryan, confused, before turning back to Brittany. "I don't think it's the type of game you'll be interested in," Shaun said, a wicked smile suddenly appearing on his thin lips. "But you can come over to my place tonight and we can play a game I'm sure you'll be interested in."_

 _Brittany twisted her face, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "No, thank you," Brittany said. "I don't play games with boys that have a small penis."_

 _Shaun scowled as Ryan burst out into laughter. Brittany smiled along as she heard Rachel snort next to her._

 _The shorter football player punched Ryan on the shoulder, ultimately silencing him._

 _"Now, we could stand here all day," Brittany suggested. "Or, you could take those slushy's somewhere else and leave Rachel alone."_

 _Ryan frowned deeply. "What's wrong with you, Brittany?"_

 _Brittany scowled. "Nothing is wrong with me."_

 _"Then why are you defending RuPual over here..."_

 _Brittany glanced at Rachel, only to find the brunette already staring back at her with curious eyes, as if she too were wondering the answer to the same question. "Because we're friends," Brittany stated. Rachel flinched as the words left the blonde's mouth, her eyes scrutinising Brittany to find the lie she was sure was hidden behind baby-blue eyes. But, then the blankness behind Rachel's eyes cleared, replaced by a warmth that had the butterflies in Brittany's stomach fluttering._

 _"Yeah, well, we've been ordered to slushy Berry over here." Shaun gestured to Rachel. "A done deal is a done deal."_

 _"You're not slushying her," Brittany huffed, crossing her arms stubbornly._

 _Ryan growled. "Just move out of the way, Brittany. It has to be done."_

 _"Or what? Or else the cheerleader that ordered you to do this won't sleep with you?" Brittany scowled, shaking her head as she partially moved to stand in front of Rachel. "If you want to slushy Rachel, you're going to have to slushy me too."_

And that, promptly, was how Brittany ended up in the girls locker room with a half-naked Rachel.

The two boys had walked away from them laughing, their cups empty. Brittany had never felt so cold, shamed or sticky. She had turned to Rachel after, cherry slush stinging her eyes, only to find the brunette, covered in green slush, laughing. The blonde felt a little hurt, and Rachel must have realised this as she quickly said: "We look like Christmas threw up on us."

After that, Brittany had laughed too.

They had collected their things after and made their way to the locker room to shower. The two girl's had spent so long scrubbing slush from their bodies that by the time they were done, they had missed almost all of first period.

That all led to now, as Brittany watched Rachel from across the locker room, transfixed by the curves of her body as she stood in only her underwear, her back turned to the blonde. Brittany might have felt ashamed, only she couldn't find it within her to do so. It was like Rachel demanded her to stare. The brunette wore so much unflattering clothing that Brittany was astounded by the body that lay beneath the clothing.

"You know-" Rachel started as she turned, slipping on her skirt. Brittany averted her eyes quickly, only just realising she had been staring too long. But the damage had already been done. Rachel wrapped her arms around her stomach subconsciously, her cheeks inflamed.

Brittany scolded herself. She never intended to make Rachel feel that way.

The blonde cleared her throat after an awkward pause, plastering a smile onto her face. "You were saying?"

"Yes," Rachel said, physically shaking out her nerves. "I just wanted to thank you - for standing up for me. No one has ever done that for me before."

"Well they should." Brittany frowned, zipping up the side of her skirt. She was thankful she had left her spare uniform at school.

"I'm sorry you got slushied, too."

"Why should you be sorry?"

"Because it's my fault."

"No, it's not," Brittany said sternly. The blonde shook her head, closing her locker as she rounded the bench that separated her from Rachel. The brunette looked startled as Brittany grabbed both of her hands and held them close to her body. "It's not your fault. It's partially my own, but it's those idiots faults for thinking with their penis' instead of their brains."

Rachel gave a small smile, the action causing Brittany's eyes to drift to the shorter girl's mouth, transfixed by the curve of her mouth and the fullness of her lips. It felt like electricity was surging through the space between them as a heat pooled in the pit of Brittany's stomach, her eyes flicking up to find Rachel staring back at her.

Silence filled the room, but sound became irrelevant as they communicated through their eyes. Brittany instinctivley felt her body moving closer to Rachel, as if she had no control over her own actions. However, when Rachel didn't move away, Brittany felt an electrical surge through her heart that had her leaping forwards.

Suddenly, the locker room door burst open. Rachel jumped back, as if Brittany's touch physically burned her.

Angry shouts followed as Santana's voice echoed around the locker room. Rachel quickly grabbed her shirt, pulling it over her head in time as Santana came around the corner.

The raven-haired girl stopped short as she looked at the scene before her. Her eyes instinctively found Brittany's before slowly moving over to Rachel. A scowl appeared on her face. "Britt, what are you doing in here with the hobbit?"

Brittany frowned. She hated when Santana called her that. "We were cleaning up. What are you doing in here?"

"I heard you got slushied," Santana said, ignoring Rachel as she pushed past the shorter girl and came to stand before Brittany. "I just finished murdering some jocks and came to find you."

"I'm fine." Brittany smiled. She didn't agree with violence, but a small part of her found Santana hot when she got protective. The blonde smiled and reached out to grab Santana's hand. They hadn't spend a lot of time together lately and the blonde found herself missing contact.

The raven-haired girl immediately twitched her hand away as she felt Brittany's fingers touch ehr own. She coughed, pulling back as she glanced over at Rachel.

Brittany felt a small part of her break.

"Whatever," Santana said. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I have class, so I'll see you in glee club." With that, the cheerleader left the locker room, leaving behind a disheartened Brittany.

"You okay?" Rachel asked, breaking the silence that had surrounded them.

Brittany blinked, escaping her trance as she fixed her eyes on the brunette. She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn't move. Rachel must have noticed this because soon the brunette was packing up her belongings, throwing her backpack over her shoulder and hesitantly grabbing Brittany's hand. "Why don't we skip second period and go for ice-cream?" Rachel asked, a smile teasing her lips.

The blonde's head shot up, her eyes bewildered. The suggestion was absurd coming from Rachel's mouth. If Brittany knew one thing about the girl, it was that _Rachel Berry never skipped school_. For nothing and for no one.

"We can even get sprinkles," Rachel sing-songed.

The sudden change in Rachel's personality felt strange, but it was a side of the shorter girl that Brittany was happy to see. This side of Rachel Berry felt natural, not forced - and completely sexy.

Brittany nodded, giggling as she allowed herself to be pulled along behind Rachel.

* * *

Brittany didn't like funerals very much. But then, who did?

She hadn't known Jean very well, but she knew that her cheerleading coach had loved her sister more than anything else on the planet. Seeing Sue Sylvester cry was an unnatural sight, but a completely heart shattering one nonetheless.

"Britt, can I talk to you?" Brittany turned to face Santana.

It was five minutes until the funeral would begin.

"Of course." Brittany tried her best to smile, but memories of the day before flooded back to the front of her mind.

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday," Santana said, glancing around them to make sure everyone was out of ear shot. "I shouldn't have gotten mad at you like that. You're allowed to be friends with Berry if you want to be, I can't stop you."

A weight lifted from Brittany's shoulders and finally, she felt like she could breath.

The blonde had spent the entire weekend texting with Rachel, and when Santana had came over on Saturday night for a make-out session, their activities had been cut short when Brittany had told Santana who she was texting. The whole thing had blown out of proportion, in Brittany's opinion.

It wasn't like she intended to ignore Santana, but a deep pain in the blonde's gut had been distracting her all night. She couldn't focus. Rachel wouldn't stop talking about her relationship with Jesse, and the more she talked about him, the tighter Brittany's gut felt.

At first, the blonde thought she had just ate some bad chicken, but then everything became evident to her: she was jealous of Jesse St. James. Or rather, his relationship with Rachel.

So then she did what any jealous girl would do; she subtly convinced Rachel to break it off with Jesse.

And it had worked. That morning she had woke up to a text from Rachel saying she had ended thing's with Jesse and the pain in her stomach disappeared.

Brittany sighed. "I'm sorry too, for ignoring you," she said.

Santana smiled. "Let's just forget about it. I'll come over to your place tonight and we can resume what we left off?"

"Sure," Brittany said, trying her best to smile. Santana smirked in response and turned, sauntering off to stand near Quinn.

The blonde tried to stay positive, but she couldn't shake the disappointed feeling that swirled deep in her gut. She loved Santana - sometimes in a way that felt stronger than it should - but she was tired of the secrecy. She wanted to be able to hold Santana's hand in public, or kiss her.

She didn't want to feel like her dirty secret, as if she was ashamed of her.

Brittany sighed, shifting the skirt of her black dress as she moved to the front of the room to stand in formation with the rest of the glee club members. Rachel stood to her left with Santana on her right and Quinn behind her. And surrounded by her friends like that, somehow, it felt right - complete.


	3. New York

**Just a quick note, since I didn't mention it before...for the purposes of this story, Santana didn't confess her love for Brittany in the episode 'sexy', meaning she never got together with Karofsky, etc. etc. But Kurt did come back to the New Directions. Happy reading!**

 _"They'll say you are bad or perhaps you are mad or at least you should stay undercover. Your mind must be bare if you would dare to think you can love more than one lover."_ David Rovics

Brittany had never felt more confused.

It didn't seem right, how she could like more than one person at a time. It was supposed to be just one, always just one - you were supposed to marry _one_ person.

But then, why did she feel this way?

The blonde knew it wasn't normal, but she couldn't help but feel it was _right._

Brittany watched Rachel from across the hotel room, her fluffy pink pen scribbling across her notepad furiously as the tiny diva frowned, her lips pursed in thought. The blonde thought it was cute, how intense she got.

Suddenly, Rachel looked up and found Brittany's eyes. The tiny diva blushed, smiling shyly before averting her eyes. The blonde found her lips curving automatically as she smiled to herself, the butterflies in her stomach reaching new levels as her gut whirled in excitement.

Brittany had never experienced a crush so profound, so instantaneous.

It scared her a little, if she were honest.

Out of the corner of her eye, Brittany spotted Finn sitting on one of the beds in the corner of the room. He had stopped writing on his notepad to stare at Rachel, his puppy dog eyes watching her in the distance as a small smile twitched at his lips.

Brittany scowled, a familiar pain settling deep in her stomach. She didn't like the way Finn looked at Rachel. In fact, she was beginning to dislike a lot of what Finn did lately. The way he had treated Rachel when they were in a relationship, and the continued way he treated her now, and the way he had messed around with Quinn only to break-up with her to try and win Rachel back - and after a funeral, too!

Douchebag move.

The blonde had never felt such hatred in her life.

Next to her, Santana shifted as she leaned closer to the blonde. "This blows. The negative vibes in this room are totally throwing off my creative juices. I needs out of this hotel room."

Brittany barely heard her, she was too busy glaring daggers at Finn.

"Hey, Britt," Santana said as she nudged her arm. "You okay? You kinda blanked on me for a second there."

"No, I'm fine." Brittany shook her head, trying to shake away the nauseating feeling that beheld her body. "I was just thinking about Nationals."

Santana rasped her lips. "Me too. We're totally gonna suck in two days time if we sing a stupid dumb ass song that was inspired by either a blank wall, some nasty smelling bed sheets or Finn's dumb looking face as he creeps on Berry."

"Agreed," Tina voiced from the foot of the bed they were sat on.

Santana suddenly threw away her pen and notepad as she stood from the bed. "I vote we get out of here and see what New York city has to offer," she said.

"Hell yeah!" Puck shouted, standing up from his chair as he flung his notepad and pen across the room.

"Praise the Lord Jesus, I need some air." Mercedes had already made a b-line for the door.

Santana turned to Brittany with a wicked smile on her lips and held out her hand. Brittany took it without hesitation and allowed herself to be pulled up from the bed. The raven-haired girl waited until everyone had left the hotel room before turning to the blonde, quickly planting a kiss on her lips. "Let's go," Santana said, dragging Brittany towards the door.

Brittany followed blindly, her thoughts consumed with increasing questions about her relationship with Santana.

* * *

It was the next day when Brittany decided to confront Quinn.

The blonde had noticed that while everyone else was gathered in the boys shared room, working restlessly to try and come up with a song, Quinn remained absent. After excusing herself, Brittany entered into the girls shared room and knocked on the closed bathroom door.

Quinn exited a moment later, telling her that the bathroom was all hers. But Brittany didn't want the bathroom, she wanted to talk to Quinn.

"What's going on with you?" Brittany asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone else is in there writing song - but you're not."

"Oh yeah, is Mr Schue in there? Because I think I'm going to tell him that Rachel and Kurt keep sneaking out." Quinn smiled wickedly.

"You can't do that, he'll have to suspend them.

Quinn sighed empathetically. "And there goes our chances at Nationals. Darn!"

"Why would you do that?"

"Fair is fair, Britt," Quinn said, shrugging her shoulders. "Do you really think that if the roles were reversed Berry wouldn't snitch on me? She'd jump at the chance."

Brittany frowned. "No, I don't think that she would. Rachel wouldn't jeopardise our chances at Nationals like that."

Quinn laughed sarcastically. "And she certainly wouldn't ruin her chances with Finn."

"Is that what this is about, Finn?"

"Of course it's about him!" Quinn yelled.

"Listen, Quinn," Brittany said, holding her hand out in a calming gesture. "If you do this, the only person you'll be hurting is yourself."

Quinn rolled her eyes, throwing her arms wide. "I don't care about some stupid show choir competition!"

Brittany thought this side of Quinn was strange. She had never seen this side of her, and to be honest, the blonde wasn't all that sure she liked it.

"You might not care," Brittany said, lowering her voice as she looked towards the ground. "But a lot of other people do. Including me."

Brittany glanced up at Quinn, only to find tears streaking down the girl's face. "Aren't we supposed to be the popular girls?" Quinn asked. Brittany couldn't stand the sight before her. Her heart shattered in ways she never thought it could - she wanted to fix the broken girl before her, to mend her heart and to make her smile once more. "So why can't we have our dreams come true?"

When Brittany couldn't stand it any longer, she reached out and captured Quinn in her arms, embracing her tightly. She felt the wetness of Quinn's tears press against her neck as the shorter blonde pressed her face into the curve of Brittany's neck, holding her tightly.

" _She_ has love, Tina has it, even Zizes hooks up," Quinn murmured into her neck, tears laced through her voice. Brittany felt a tightness constrain her throat as she moved Quinn towards a bed, where she sat down, still holding Quinn close. "I just want somebody to love me."

Brittany brushed back Quinn's hair so she could look at her face more clearly. "I love you," she admitted.

Quinn croaked out a tired laugh. "Not that kind of love, Britt. The kind of love that people would die for - where every minute you're apart is intolerable. The kind of forever love that never leaves you. I want that kind of love."

The taller blonde frowned. She didn't like what Quinn was insinuating; that she wouldn't love her forever; that she wouldn't die for her; that she didn't miss her when she wasn't there. Because if there was something Brittany was certain about, it was the fact that she would never stop loving Quinn. She had stuck by Quinn throughout all the drama, she certainly wasn't leaving any time soon.

"You'll find someone, Quinn," Brittany said gently, wiping away Quinn's tears as she tilted the girl's chin up. "You'll find someone that's right for you - perfect, even. And they will love you forever."

Quinn sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I think I already have," she whispered.

"Finn? Don't be silly." Brittany laughed, hugging the girl tighter. She missed the way Quinn scowled at the idea that Brittany thought she meant Finn. "C'mon, I think I have the perfect idea on how to make you feel better."

Quinn laughed and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet by Brittany. "Oh yeah, and what would that be?"

Brittany turned to her with a mischievous smirk on her face and said, "Ice-cream."

* * *

Later that day, after sharing some ice-cream with Quinn, Brittany ran across a conversation Finn was having with Puck.

She couldn't figure out why she paused beside them. But as she pretended to strike up a conversation with Mike about choreography, she found herself listening in.

"I think I'm gonna ask her out," Finn said, a big goofy smile on his face.

Puck twisted his lips. "You sure about that man, you did just break up with Quinn. Don't you think you should let things cool over first, you know, wait until after Nationals."

"I was going to," Finn started, shifting up from the bed to look clearly at Puck. "But yesterday, Rachel was totally flirting back with me. I think she's interested in getting back together. And you know what they say, 'while in New York'."

"Dude, no one says that," Puck said, shaking his head.

"Whatever." Finn rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna ask her out tonight."

Brittany couldn't listen any longer. She felt an intense adrenaline in her chest as her gut twisted in pain. She quickly broke her conversation with Mike and excused herself into the girls shared room. As she entered, her eyes quickly searched for Rachel.

She found the tiny diva in the back of the room, sitting at the dresser as she scribbled on her notepad. Without hesitation, the blonde quickly walked over to her.

Rachel looked up from her work as she approached, her brows knitting together in that aborable way that had Brittany's knees crumbling. "Brittany?" Rachel queried when Brittany said nothing.

The blonde fumbled for something to say, and realised only then, as she mumbled like a complete idiot, that she had no idea what she wanted to say or why she even walked over.

The brunette giggled at the expression on Brittany's face. "What can I help you with?" Rachel asked.

"Um," Brittany mumbled, trying to complete a coherent sentence. "I was just wondering if you wanted to sneak out tonight. I really want to see central park at night."

Rachel smirked, twisting her fluffy pink pen between her fingers. "What about Santana? Did she not want to go with you?"

Brittany felt the panic rise in her chest. "Yeah, um, Santana said she's busy doing something with Quinn. And you're the only other person I could ask."

"Okay," Rachel said, shrugging her shoulders as she turned back to her notepad. "I'd love to."

Brittany smiled brightly, feeling the butterflies swarm in her stomach as she bounced on her heel. "Great," she said, and quickly turned, removing herself from the situation before she could embarrass herself any further.

The blonde didn't quite understand why she had asked Rachel to go with her, but she knew that the thought of Finn manipulating Rachel into getting back together with him sickened her.

* * *

"It's so pretty." Rachel sighed as she looked out upon the scene before her.

They stood on the bridge in central park, looking out at the small pond as the lights cast a magical glow over the waters surface.

Brittany glanced at Rachel, the low lighting casting shadows across her face, defining her bone structure. "It sure is," she whispered.

After sneaking away from the hotel, they had stopped at a small diner for dinner before proceeding to central park where Rachel confessed to her that Finn had asked her out. The blonde asked what she had said in reply, but the tiny diva only replied: "I'm here with you, aren't I?"

Brittany felt a little jolt through her heart when Rachel said that. She wasn't delusional, the blonde knew that Rachel wasn't exactly picking her over Finn, but a small part of her wanted to believe that. Brittany felt lost in the night. She didn't want to go back to the hotel room, she didn't want the night to end.

It was nice being around Rachel - around the Rachel that nobody else saw, the Rachel who was relaxed and witty and extremely hilarious.

Slowly, the brunette turned back towards her. Brittany didn't bother averting her gaze, she had been caught staring so many times that she was sure Rachel had already began to suspect something. The tiny diva graced her with a small smile, but it was her eyes that Brittany found captivating as she watched the coffee brown hues slip down, stopping as they drank in Brittany's lips.

Brittany felt a bolt of energy surge through her heart, causing it to pump at an erratic rate that sent shivers along her spine. The hairs on her arms stood on end as a sickening feeling seeped into her stomach. But it was a good sickening feeling, a feeling that held her entire body captive under a spell that sent adrenaline pumping through her heart.

Rachel flickered her eyes back to Brittany's, and the blonde swallowed as desire captured her body. Her breath was coming out in short pants as she tried to restrain herself from leaping forwards and capturing the tiny diva's lips. However, she noticed, it was Rachel who started to lean closer this time.

Time slowed in that moment, colours and sounds and objects around her fading as all Brittany could focus on was the girl in front of her - the girl she suddenly felt attracted to, whom she was sure felt the same way.

Brittany leaned in, intending to meet her half way.

"A rose for your lover, miss?" the voice interrupted. Brittany sighed internally as she turned to face the middle-aged man. He held out a long-stemmed rose, a wide smile on his face as he grinned at her.

Brittany smiled politely. "No, thank you."

The blonde wondered why she didn't correct the man. But then again, she wondered why Rachel hadn't either.

"Oh, but I insist," he continued. He shoved the rose into Brittany's hand and glanced at Rachel, before turning to wink at the blonde. "This one is free, of course. For the beautiful lady."

Before Brittany could reply to him, the man sauntered away. She looked down at the rose held awkwardly in her hand and twirled it between her fingers before glancing up at Rachel. The brunette stood awkwardly as she fumbled with her hands, avoiding the blonde's gaze.

Brittany held the rose out to her. "A rose, for the beautiful lady," The blonde winked at her.

Rachel blushed deeply, but accepted the rose. She held it tightly in her hand as she looked down at the floor. "We should, um, head back to the hotel," she said, glancing up at Brittany. "Before Mr Schue notices we're gone."

"Okay." Brittany nodded.

As the two girls walked back to the hotel, Brittany couldn't help but feel the disappointment settle into her heart.

* * *

They'd pulled it off.

Brittany couldn't believe it, but they actually had. They had managed to come up with three amazing original songs for Nationals. To be honest, she still liked her song the most, but the rest of the songs they had chosen couldn't have been better.

The blonde was waiting backstage with the other glee club members as Rachel and Finn introduced them with Finn's song, _Pretending._ Honestly, Brittany was impressed with the song - Finn had actually done something good. But the meaning, however, she was totally not impressed with. It was clearly obvious (even to Mr Schue) who the song had been written about, and Brittany felt the tightening of her gut once more as she watched them sing across from one another on stage.

As the song was drawing to a close, Brittany walked out onto the stage with a bright smile plastered on her face. She turned her back to the crowd as she took formation along side the others. But as the song ended, there was a pause. Confused, she glanced at Quinn beside her. The other girl looked just as baffled as she did, and simultaneously they both glanced over their shoulders.

The pain Brittany felt in her stomach was almost blinding.

She wanted to throw up.

Finn. And Rachel. Kissing.

She turned away quickly, pushing down the anger that boiled inside of her chest. The blonde cast a glance at Quinn, who was facing forward with a deep scowl on her face.

At least Brittany wasn't the only one unhappy about the kiss.

Brittany was sure Quinn was going to murder Finn, or Rachel...or perhaps both.

Santana and her tried to calm the shorter blonde down, but Quinn was a raging head cheerleader on a war path.

They followed closely behind Quinn as she searched through the lobby, a deep scowl on her face as she warded people out of her way with a glare.

When she found the two people she was searching for, Quinn marched over to them.

Brittany and Santana hurried behind her.

"What the hell was that?" Quinn yelled, throwing her arms wide. A few people nearby turned to watch the commotion, but Quinn seared them off with a glare.

"What was what?" Finn asked, a smug smile upon his face.

Quinn's scowl deepened. "Don't play coy with me, Finn. The kiss. What the hell is wrong with you! It was totally unprofessional, you've just cost us Nationals."

"Since when have you cared about Nationals - about any of us?" Finn shook his head. "You're just jealous of what Rachel and I have."

"What you have? Oh, please." Quinn laughed humourlessly. "I have a better relationship with my reflection than you two will ever have."

"Why do you have to be such a bitch all the time?" Finn said, lamely shrugging his shoulders.

Santana stepped in just as Quinn lurched forwards. The raven-haired girl pulled Quinn away from Rachel and Finn, and Brittany followed behind them, her eyes switching between Santana and Quinn, and Rachel and Finn.

"Okay, stop," Santana demanded. Quinn immediately stopped fighting her as she pulled back and straightened out her dress. "Getting an assault charge for beating finnocence's ass on top of losing Nationals is totally not worth it - _he_ isn't worth it."

Quinn groaned. "Oh, no, the assault charge would definitely be worth it just so I could wipe that smug smile off his damn face!" she yelled. More people turned to stare at the commotion, and Brittany found herself smiling at them apologetically.

"I'm going to go calm things down with finn-boy, okay," Santana said, raising her hands in a calming gesture. She glanced at Brittany. "Britt, stay with Quinn and make sure she doesn't break anything."

Brittany nodded and watched as Santana walked over to Finn and Rachel. She turned back to Quinn a moment later and sighed. "That must have been hard for you to watch," she sympathised.

"What?" Quinn stopped her frantic pacing to stare at Brittany. "Oh, you think this is about him? No. Definitely not. He can slop lips with whomever he likes, but his selfish needs have just cost us Nationals."

"I thought you didn't care?"

Quinn frowned, sagging her shoulders. "I don't," she said, then shook her head. "I didn't. Not until I realised that other people _do_ care."

Brittany stared at Quinn, the other girl looking back as her green eyes pierced through Brittany's skin. Brittany felt a tiny spark prickle along her skin, a quick tingling in her hands as she shorter blonde stared back at her with a deep intensity.

"Are you sure this isn't about him?" Brittany queried.

"I'm sure," Quinn replied, looking over Brittany's shoulder. Brittany followed her gaze over to Finn and Rachel. At first, she was confused - if it wasn't about Finn, why was she staring at him? Then she glanced back at Quinn and noticed that it wasn't Finn she was looking at.

It was Rachel.

It was about Rachel?

Then Brittany realised something as she looked deeply at Quinn. It wasn't hatred she saw upon the girls face; it was something else entirely.

Brittany didn't have too much time to think about it as Santana came wandering back over to them. Brittany glanced behind her to see Finn storm away from Rachel.

"C'mon, let's get back to the others," Santana said, leading Quinn by the arm.

Brittany paused as she waited for Rachel to catch up. "So, you're back together with Finn?" she asked when the tiny diva came to walk beside her.

Rachel glanced at the blonde out of the corner of her eye. "No."

"Oh." Brittany glanced down at the brunette in confusion. "Then what were you talking about?"

The brunette glanced up at Brittany, a smirk pressed across her lips. "I told him the truth. That I didn't love him any more and that he shouldn't have kissed me."

Before Brittany could reply, Rachel was already walking ahead of her. The blonde followed behind, a wide smile spreading across her face as a sudden giddiness rolled through her body.

She was already in _far_ too deep.


	4. First Kiss

**"You are imperfect, permanently and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful." Amy Bloom.**

School had only been out for a week-and-a-half when Brittany ran into Rachel again. The blonde had kept in touch with her through text, but it wasn't the same as actually being with her.

Brittany had just finished teaching the afternoon classes at the local dance studio when she stumbled across Rachel Berry. The blonde was walking through the hall, her bag slung over her shoulder when she heard the music. Upon hearing it, she paused and glanced in the direction the music came from.

She recognised the tune: _Spring_ by Vivaldi. She only knew of it because Rachel had insisted on her listening to it, the tiny diva claiming it was one of her favourite classical pieces. The tune had since been stuck in Brittany's head, and something about hearing it in the hall had made the blonde pause.

Of course, it was only by chance that the girl dancing in the studio room to Vivaldi had to be Rachel Berry.

Brittany paused by the door and peered into the studio room through the glass window. Inside, Rachel wore a black leotard with white tights and ballet shoes. She moved gracefully to the music, twisting and turning as the notes guided her movements.

Without deliberating, Brittany opened the studio room door and stepped inside. Rachel didn't notice her as she walked in, instead the tiny diva kept twirling, her foot work precise as she made use of the entire floor.

Brittany leaned against the wall as she watched the small brunette. Something about the scene before her completely bewitched Brittany in a way that shot fire straight through her heart, warming her stomach as the butterflies tingled her insides. The Rachel she stared at was completely relaxed, without worry. She was graceful and elegant, beautiful and enchanting - bewitching in mind and soul.

The blonde didn't really know how long she had been staring before the music stopped. She blinked her eyes a few times until she saw Rachel standing by the boombox, her finger on the off switch with her brow cocked. "Hello?" the brunette called, a humorous twinge to her voice.

"Um, hi, sorry for interrupting you. I was teaching a class down the hall and I heard the music." Brittany pointed a thumb over her shoulder.

Rachel walked over to the furthest corner of the room and picked up her bag. "It's fine," she said. "Your timing was actually perfect. My dad's came to pick me up five minutes ago. I just lost track of time - you know how it is."

Brittany did know. Dancing felt like a whole other world to her. When she was dancing she felt lost in time, like she was on another planet and she was the only person inhabiting it.

After a short pause, Rachel said, "I didn't know you taught classes here."

"Yeah, it's a summer job." Brittany shrugged. "I teach the younger classes."

"Lucky them." Rachel smiled.

Silence continued as the two girls stared at one another from across the room. Brittany felt like that was her que to leave, but somehow her body did not want to co-operate with her mind.

"Is there something you wanted to ask me?" Rachel smirked, her eyes sparkling with humour as she walked closed to Brittany.

The blonde felt her cheeks flush. "Well, since you're here and all, I wondered if you wanted to hang out?"

Rachel chuckled. "Right now? I'm heading to the library to get started on next semesters reading requirements. I want to get ahead."

"Oh." Brittany felt her chest deflate.

"But you can come with me." Rachel paused, shrugging one shoulder. "If you'd like."

The blonde contemplated that for a moment. Library's weren't her thing - not at all. Neither was doing work in advance for next semester, she was the leave-it-all-until-the-last-minute type of girl. However, she felt her heart leaping at the chance to spend some time with Rachel outside of school. Brittany hadn't admitted it out loud, but she had missed the tiny diva. Going from seeing her almost every day at school to not seeing her for almost two weeks was a weird adjustment.

Brittany was just happy to spend some time with Rachel - no matter where they were. The two of them hadn't been alone since their second almost-kiss in New York.

"Sure," Brittany replied. "I can drive us there."

* * *

The library? Well, Brittany found out it wasn't all that bad.

It wasn't like how people portrayed it in the movies. It wasn't filled with geeky kids with too many pimples, nor were there hundreds of old people that smelled like oatmeal - and there certainty wasn't any dusty, old woman with glasses sitting behind the front desk shushing you every time you so much as breathed.

In fact, Brittany found out that the library was quite calming. It did have an old, dusty smell about the place but she didn't mind that at all...and not because Rachel had told her it was one of her favourite smells.

"Okay, I have a question for you," Rachel said, breaking apart the books in the middle of the shelf so she could see Brittany. They stood on opposite sides of a bookcase, working their way along the shelves as they searched for the required books.

Brittany closed the book she had been fiddling with and placed it back on the shelf. "And what would that be?" she asked.

"What is your favourite book?"

That question was hard. Brittany hadn't really read many books.

"Unfair question, you know I don't read much."

"It's not an unfair question. It's a completely justifiable question." Rachel chuckled. "Everyone has read at the very least one book. I want to know your favourite."

"Okay. Okay." Brittany groaned playfully. "I guess it's probably The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks."

"Zombies?" Rachel cocked a brow, laughter threatening to spill from her lips.

"You asked." Brittany stuck her tongue out. "I'm just preparing myself for the inevitable zombie apocalypse. Then I'll be the one laughing when I have to save you because you weren't prepared."

"Aliens will invade long before zombies arise," Rachel teased before dropping the books back into place.

Brittany continued along the bookcase shelves, searching before her curiosity peaked. She split open the books and peered through to find Rachel, then asked, "Okay, what's your favourite book? Something by or about Barbra, I bet."

"No, actually," Rachel said, coming towards the gap in the books Brittany had created. "It's Great Expectations by Charles Dickens."

"Why?"

"I read it when I was nine. It was kind of my 'awakening' to society. It taught me about relationships, society, life; the limitations of a person's strength. It's the first book that I read where I felt like it was written _for me_."

Brittany paused, smirking. "Sap," she teased, dropping the books back into place, laughing. She walked down the aisle, towards the end of the bookshelf where she rounded the corner. She walked up to Rachel on the other side, who had paused to glance at a row of books on one of the shelves. She ran her index finger over their spines, reading off their names until she found the one she was looking for. She pulled it out and inspected the cover, dusting off the invisible dust as she mumbled the title to herself.

Brittany moved closer so she could read the blurb over Rachel's shoulder. It was only after Rachel stopped reading - after she had turned to face Brittany - did the blonde realise how close she was standing to Rachel. Their faces were mere inches apart, their noses almost touching as Brittany slowly moved her eyes down to Rachel's.

Electricity passed between them. The butterflies in Brittany's stomach fluttered as she stared down at the smaller girl, a warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach as Rachel stared back with just as much adornment.

The next moment passed by quickly. Brittany had started to lean in, only to find Rachel moving to meet her half way.

Their lips met with a jolting bolt of lightening.

Their kiss was different to anything Brittany had felt before. Where Santana's kisses were desperate and lustful, like if they broke away from one another they'd lose each other forever, Rachel's were completely different, but in a completely exciting way. Rachel's kiss was slow and sensual, loving and warm, as if they had all the time in the world and everything around them became irrelevant.

An electrical current flowed through Brittany's chest as she felt Rachel's lips move back against her own. Her eyes fluttered closed as she indulged in the soft feel of the brunette's lips. Brittany felt her hands moving down to the smaller girl's waist, pulling her closer so that their bodies pressed together.

The clattering of a book falling on the ground followed as Rachel lifted her hands to smooth over Brittany's arms. Rachel slowly moved her fingers along the blonde's flesh, her fingers tickling her skin before they finally came to rest on either side of Brittany's face.

They stood there for a while. Brittany wasn't sure for how long, but she knew that she didn't want it to end. Something about kissing Rachel felt right. It wasn't as if Brittany hadn't been happy before, but somehow Rachel had came along and filled up a hole in Brittany's heart that she never knew was missing.

An awkward coughing broke their spell. Brittany and Rachel simultaneously pulled back and turned to face the sheepish looking boy that stood next to them. He looked a little older than them, with glasses and a beanie. His cheeks were blushed a deep pink as he avoided their gazes. "Excuse me," he said.

Rachel pushed Brittany back into the bookshelf to allow the boy to pass by. As soon as he had disappeared around the corner, the brunette broke out into laughter.

The sound warmed Brittany's chest, and soon, the blonde was laughing too.

Somehow, that moment seemed perfect to Brittany. It wasn't awkward, like how some first kisses felt. It was as if she was kissing her girlfriend, as if kissing Rachel was a normal thing that she did everyday.

As their laughing subsided, Brittany knelt down and picked up Rachel's discarded book. "You dropped this." She handed the book to Rachel, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Rachel smiled back at her; a small, sweet smile that had Brittany's heart fluttering. "Do you want to come over?" she suddenly asked.

Brittany's smile widened. "Okay."

* * *

"Your favourite colour?" Brittany asked.

"Pink," Rachel replied. "Okay, your favourite animal?"

Brittany pouted. "No fair, I can't pick _just_ one."

"Fine. Top two."

"Easy then: dolphin and a unicorn."

"A unicorn?"

"Yes. Problem?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not at all."

The two girls had been sitting in Rachel's room for hours. After they had finished up at the library, Brittany had drove them over to Rachel's. Since her dad's were out having their weekly 'date night', the two had ordered in vegan pizza and watched a film which lead them to their current predicament as they lay across Rachel's bed, side-by-side, staring up at the ceiling.

Brittany had been too stuffed to move to put another movie on and she wanted to get to know Rachel a little better; so, she had devised a little game.

"Who was your first kiss?" Brittany asked.

Rachel groaned. "Noah, in third grade."

Brittany turned her head to stare at Rachel. "Puck?"

"Don't give me that look." Rachel poked Brittany's cheek. "We were young, I thought I was in love and Noah wooed me with grape juice and cookies."

Brittany burst out into laughter.

Rachel reached out and playfully shoved at the blonde's shoulder. "Problem?" she imitated.

"None at all," Brittany replied with a bemused smile upon her lips.

"Good."

The two lay in the silence for a moment before Brittany asked, "What time is it?"

Rachel poked her head around to peer at the alarm clock on her bedside table. "Nine-thirty."

"I should go." Brittany sighed, but did not move.

The tiny diva shifted, turning onto her side to face the blonde. Brittany copied her actions and stared into coffee brown eyes that melted into her soul Brittany didn't know if it was out of impulse, or heat-of-the-moment, or the fact that she felt completely comfortable around Rachel, but without warning the blonde leaned in and kissed Rachel.

The brunette immediately kissed back, her lips slowly moving against Brittany's.

Rachel pulled back only slightly to mumble against Brittany's lips, "Stay."

Brittany had no objections.

* * *

As it turned out, Brittany ended up staying at Rachel's for the night. After a long make-out session, they had finally been pulled apart when Rachel's dad's had pulled up outside. This had prompted the two to break apart so Rachel could tell her dad's the blonde was staying over while Brittany rang her parents to tell them why she wouldn't be going home.

The rest of the night had consisted of another movie, some ice-cream, more question games and a whole lot more making-out until eventually they had both fell asleep.

Brittany had woken up in the morning with her arms wrapped around Rachel's waist. But, she hadn't felt awkward - because it felt right. She hadn't wanted to leave Rachel's house, but the tiny diva had insisted she go home to get changed so they could go out for breakfast together.

The sound of sharing pancakes with her tiny diva sounded amazing to Brittany.

But she also didn't know when Rachel had become _her_ tiny diva.

Brittany couldn't have been happier, but that soon all faded away as she pulled into her driveway to find Santana sitting on her porch steps.

Immediately, Brittany got out of her car and walked over to Santana. The raven-haired girl looked up at her as she approached, a scowl on her face.

"Please tell me you haven't been sitting out here all night," Brittany said as she came to stand in front of Santana.

"No. I've only been here ten minutes," Santana said. "But I did show up last night - and you weren't here. We had plans to go to breadsticks, remember?"

Instantly Brittany felt a deep regret settle into her chest. "I'm so sorry, Santana. I forgot that was supposed to be yesterday. Can we reschedule?"

"It's fine, let's just forget about it." Santana shrugged, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. "Where were you. I called, and text - I was worried."

Brittany cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I was with Rachel. It got late so I ended up staying the night." Something about the previous nights events made Brittany feel intensely guilty.

Santana stared at the blonde for a long moment. Brittany twisted her hands nervously; it was never a good sign when Santana was silent. "You chose her over me?" the raven-haired girl finally blurted out, a deep sadness twinged in her eyes.

"It's not like that, Santana." Brittany felt a flicker of anger rise in her chest.

"Well it sure fucking feels that way."

Brittany sighed, rubbing a palm over her face as she sat down on the step beside Santana. "I don't want to fight. I'm tired of fighting with you."

"It seems like it's all we do lately," Santana agreed, bowing her head.

Brittany let a moment pass before she said, "I don't know what you want from me, Santana."

Santana turned to the blonde, her brow cocked.

It was now or never, Brittany decided. She was tired of their relationship confusing her. "What is it that you want? Out of this - out of us?"

Santana looked away, towards the sky as she fiddled with her hands. "I'm still trying to figure that part out."

"Do you want to be with me? _Actually_ be with me? You say sex isn't dating but half the time it feels like we are. Or am I just someone to fool around with, because sometimes I feel like you're ashamed of me."

Santana shook her head, her brows drawn. "I'm not ashamed of you, Britt."

"Maybe not, but you are ashamed of this relationship - of what it labels you."

Santana remained silent.

"I - I don't think I can do this anymore," Brittany said, glancing at Santana.

"What?"

"This." Brittany motioned between them. "Us...whatever _we_ are. I'm tired, Santana. I'm tired of all the lies, the secrecy; feeling like I can't be myself. I want to show the world how much I care about you, but I feel like you're not at that stage yet."

Santana shook her head and abruptly stood to her feet. She swirled to stand in front of Brittany. "Is this about Berry?" she asked.

"No," Brittany replied, then shook her head, "and yes at the same time. With Rachel it's simple, it's easy. I know what I am to her, I know how she feels and I know what she wants. I know she's not ashamed of me, or of who she is."

"So, what...you and Berry are dating now?" Santana spat, placing her hands on her hips.

"No. I don't know." Brittany shrugged. "We haven't really worked any of it out yet. I don't know what we are."

Santana crossed her arms. "So Berry's gay?"

Brittany decided not to answer that. That question was better left answered by Rachel herself.

Silence passed between them. Brittany listened to the cry of the birds overhead, and the soft rustle of the trees as the wind passed through their branches. Eventually, Santana sat down on the step beside Brittany once more and sighed. "What happens now?" she asked.

"All I know is this: I love you, Santana," Brittany said, turning to meet Santana's eyes. Something dangerous flashed behind the raven-haired girl's eyes as Brittany said those words. "Always. That's something that will never change. But sometimes the thing that you love the most aren't good for you, and right now I don't think we're good for each other. I know who I am, San, I accept who I am. But it's clear to me that you're still figuring out who you are, and no matter what I'll be there to help you figure it all out...I just can't be _with_ you. I think you need some time, and I think we both need a break from whatever's going on here - because I can't keep hiding who I am anymore."

Santana didn't reply for the longest time. Brittany felt her heart beating in that moment, the quick racing of her pulse as it throbbed against her neck.

She felt sick. Everything that came out of her mouth...she wanted to take it all back. She didn't want to lose Santana, not for anything. But as much as it pained her, she knew what she had said was right. Santana needed some time to figure out what she wanted.

"Okay," Santana said, standing up.

Brittany stood beside her. "Okay."

"I'll call you." Santana swept in for a hug. Brittany embraced the raven-haired girl back, throwing her arms around the shorter girl's neck like it would be the last time. She breathed in the scent of Santana's cinnamon body lotion and relaxed into the warmth of her touch. But soon it was over and Santana was pulling back.

Brittany watched as Santana walked away from her, towards her car parked on the other side of the street.

And as Santana drove away, Brittany couldn't help but feel like she had made a huge mistake. It felt like part of her was missing.


	5. Misery Loves Company

**First off, I'd like to say that I'm really sorry for taking so long to post this chapter! I've been so busy these last few months with university applications, exams, etc. that I've barely had time to write. But, I'm back now! Updates might be a little slow, but they definitely will happen. Anyhow, warnings ahead: Santana's glorious potty mouth.**

 **"To say 'I love you' one must know first how to say the 'I'." Ayn Rand**

It had been eleven days since Santana had last spoken to Brittany.

Eleven long _fucking_ days.

Santana was pretty certain that currently stood as the longest time they had gone without speaking to one another. And that included that one time in eighth grade when the boy Brittany had been crushing on kissed Santana under the bleachers during gym class (of course Santana had pushed him away but it still resulted in Brittany not speaking to her for two days).

And it sucked not speaking to her best friend.

It really _fucking_ sucked.

They weren't purposely avoiding each other. In fact, Brittany made a point out of calling and texting Santana on a daily basis. But Santana couldn't find it within herself to pluck up the courage to finally face her best friend; she had no idea what she was going to say when they finally came face to face.

Brittany had been right to break whatever they had going on off. Santana had needed sometime to be alone to clear her head. To figure herself out. And for the most part it had worked. After spending three nights curled up in bed (on the side Brittany lay on because, well, it still smelled like her), Santana had finally concluded that a life without Brittany wasn't a life that she wanted.

Then she realised, too late, that she had already lost Brittany. Seeing her best friend with Rachel Berry confirmed to Santana just how badly she wanted to be with the blonde, because as much as she tried not to feel jealous at the thought of the two being intimate, a deep anger swirled inside of her gut despite it all. Santana still wasn't clear on what that mean, what her feelings for Brittany were, but she decided that they would work it out together because she had finally decided that, yes, Brittany was worth it.

What did Brittany even see in Rachel Berry in any case?

Rachel Berry was a self-absorbed, annoying, short, selfish diva.

Brittany could do better...with someone by the name: Santana Lopez.

However, Brittany had been wrong about a few things. Santana wasn't ashamed of the blonde, neither was she ashamed of what wanting Brittany labelled her as. Honestly? She was afraid of what people would say behind her back.

Ironic, that the girl who could metaphorically kill you with a glare was afraid of what other people would think. But Santana had spent years building her reputation and protecting her image. She had spent years hiding who she was, trying to be what everyone else wanted - it was hard to let go of that part of her life. Santana had spent so many years living a lie that somehow she had grown comfortable with it.

The Santana she showed the rest of the world was confident; she knew what she wanted and she wasn't afraid to beat somebody down to get it. The person she was on the inside, however, that girl was confused, lost, and more than a little scared. Santana had known all of her life that she was attracted to girls. But she had pushed those feelings down because her Abuela told her it was wrong to have those kind of feelings. Now, though, Santana was finally realising she couldn't push them down any longer - she wouldn't - even if she was scared.

A knock came at her bedroom door. "Wake up," Quinn shouted from the other side. When Santana made no effort to move from her bed or answer, Quinn pushed the door open and sauntered inside.

Santana groaned. "Who the fuck let you in?"

"Your Mom," Quinn answered, casually plopping herself down onto the foot of Santana's bed. "I've come to collect you. I'm taking you outside. And yes, that actually means you have to shower and put on some fresh clothes."

Quinn was wearing a white lace dress with a denim jacket. Her blonde hair was curled and hung around her face loosely. Santana thought the blonde looked pretty - but then again, Santana thought that Quinn always looked pretty...not that she would ever admit to that.

Santana breathed heavily through her nose and pushed her pillow against her face. "If you don't get out, Fabray, I swear to God I will cut you."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Your words are nothing but empty threats. Now, move. We're going to a party."

"I'd rather have an illegal immigrant surgically remove my uterus with nothing but a butter-knife and a staple gun."

"What would they need the staple gun for?"

"To staple me back up when they're done," Santana replied flatly.

Quinn wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I'm serious, Santana. You haven't been outside in three days. This isn't healthy. And since you refuse to tell me why you're in this mood; you owe me one. Puck is having a belated 'we lost national's so let's get drunk' part for the glee club and we're going."

"I'd rather let _you_ surgically remove my uterus with nothing but a butter-knife and a staple gun."

Quinn groaned and stood up from the bed. The blonde reached over, tugged the pillow away from Santana's face and pushed her off the bed. Santana landed on the floor with a _thump_ , cursing loudly. "You have no choice in the matter," Quinn said. The blonde went to Santana's closet and started looking through her clothes. "Now move, or I'll be physically forced to dress you myself and we both know that I'm not opposed to doing it."

* * *

It was perfectly accurate to say that attending Puck's party had ultimately been a very, very bad move on Santana's part. Although Quinn had practically threatened her into going, the Latina had truly been motivated by the idea of getting really drunk and forgetting about her problems (e.g. the huge problem of her wanting to be with her best friend, Brittany S. Pierce).

Of course, Santana had considered the fact that Brittany and Rachel were going to be there. She had just been hoping that it was going to be easy enough to avoid them.

Boy, was she wrong.

It seemed like no matter which direction Santana turned, the two were right there rubbing it in her face. They were being discreet about their relationship, Brittany had told her when Santana had - stupidly - asked. Not because they didn't want people to know, but because pretty much every public relationship in the glee club was doomed to fail. (They weren't wrong about that). They were going to tell everyone when they were both sure that the relationship wasn't going to end after a week (like most glee club relationships did).

That, however, didn't stop them from dancing together...touching each other. Of course, to anyone else looking their touches might have seemed friendly and innocent. But Santana knew better, and the discreet looks the two girls kept sending each other made the Latina sick to her stomach.

Brittany had dashed over to talk to Santana once she had arrived with Quinn to the party. The blonde had asked if she was okay, why she was avoiding her calls, and once again she apologised for what had transpired between the two. Santana had brushed her off, making a lame excuse about needing some time to herself to really figure things out. Honestly, it hurt Santana too much to look at Brittany. She understood why her best friend had ended their somewhat relationship, but seeing Brittany reminded her of the why...the who... _Rachel Berry_.

It would have been easy enough to turn around right then and tell Brittany how she felt. That she had figured out that she wanted Brittany. But knowing that the blonde was with someone else made it difficult. Santana was afraid of getting rejected. What if she wanted to stay with Rachel? What if she wanted Rachel more? Santana had spent most of her life seeking the approval of those around her, but Brittany's rejection would be the one that would ultimately kill her.

Santana took a sip from her beer as she watched Brittany whisper something into Rachel's ear.

"Santana!" Quinn shouted loudly as she broke away from dancing with Mercedes to wobble over to her. The blonde threw herself onto the sofa beside Santana and rested her head against the Latina's shoulder. "What's wrong with you, grumpy pants?"

"Me? Nothing." Santana scrutinised Quinn; the blonde's eyes were wide, her smile excited and her fingers were trembling. "You, however, I'm not so sure."

"You've been sitting in this corner all night watching Brittany with a scowl on your face." Quinn reached up and smoothed her thumb over the crease on Santana's forehead, as if she meant to rub it away.

Santana batted Quinn's hand away. "No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

Santana took a long sip of her beer. "Leave it, Fabray."

The Latina could feel Quinn's unrelenting gaze burn into the side of her face. For a long moment, the blonde didn't say anything. Then Santana could feel Quinn begin to smile against her shoulder. "You love her, don't you?"

The question was so sudden and unexpected Santana choked on the mouthful of beer she had in her mouth. Those simple words alone caused shivers to run up and down Santana's arms, along her shoulders and down her spine. Her throat felt like it was closing in and she couldn't breath. Santana tried to sit up, but Quinn wouldn't budge; the blonde kept leaning her drunk, dead weight against Santana.

"Oh, okay. Perhaps not love. Or maybe you do love her, but you're just afraid to admit it." Quinn gave her a knowing look.

"Seriously, Fabray, shut the hell up afore I tape your mouth shut."

Quinn giggled. The blonde reached over and snagged Santana's beer, taking a huge gulp. "I won't tell a soul, I promise. Cross my heart. But you should tell Brittany, because I'm pretty sure she feels the same way."

She did. Santana knew she did. Brittany had said as much. What Santana didn't account for is that her best friend might develop feelings for someone else. And for Rachel _fucking_ Berry of all people!

"I think I should cut you off before you end up doing something stupid," Santana said, trying to snatch her beer back from Quinn. "Like, I don't know, sleeping with Puck and getting yourself knocked up again."

Quinn frowned and moved the beer from Santana's reach. "Stop trying to change to subject."

"I'm not trying to change the subject."

"You are trying to change the subject."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Quinn," Santana said in warning.

"Santana." Quinn tried to keep a serious face but she ended up grinning like a fool.

"Fuck, Q, will you just leave it?" Santana snapped. She reached over and grabbed her beer, quickly bringing it to her lips and finishing the rest of the contents inside the bottle.

Quinn sighed and sat up. The blonde turned around on the sofa to look Santana directly in the eyes. "Santana, tell me what's wrong."

Santana shook her head. "Just forget about it, Quinn."

"No," Quinn said. "You're upset and I want to know why."

Santana glanced at her friend. There was an earnest look about Quinn's face. The blonde still swayed from the amount of alcohol she had consumed, but the look in her eyes seemed determined and Santana knew Quinn well enough to know how stubborn she could be. And whether it was because of the amount of alcohol Santana had consumed herself or just because she needed someone to talk to about it, she opened up to Quinn and told her everything.

"Holy cow, Berry is gay?" Quinn exclaimed once Santana had told her the whole story. The blonde's eyes were wide by the time she had finished talking, and she reached forward and grasped Santana's bicep sternly.

Santana shrugged. "The hell if I know. I was still pretty sure that the dwarf was hooked up on Finnocence."

A curious gleam twinkled in Quinn's eyes as she turned to watch Rachel across the room. The short diva was standing between Kurt and Blaine, chatting and sipping from her red plastic cup. If Santana had been in any coherent frame of mind, she might have explored deeper into the fact that Quinn's face lit up at the news of Rachel's sexuality. But Santana was too far gone. She had spent the entire night drowning her sorrows and all she could comprehend was the searing anger she felt deep within; the anger she felt toward Rachel.

Across the room, Rachel excused herself to rejoin Brittany by the drinks table. The two smiled at each other in secret, sharing small touches as they laughed like they were the only two in the room. And to Santana, they were. In that moment, it was merely the three of them; herself, Brittany and Rachel. Only, Santana was trapped behind bars as she was forced to watch Brittany be with someone else. And no matter how hard Santana screamed, Brittany just didn't seem to hear her.

Abruptly, Santana stood from the sofa. Quinn called after her curiously, but Santana ignored her friend and hobbled away. She passed by Sam on the way out of the living room and snatched the bottle of Vodka he held in his hand, taking a large gulp as she left the room. Sam stared after her with wide eyes, but she ignored him too. Santana found herself in a small hallway, stumbling, grasping the walls for balance. She made her way down the hallway towards the bathroom. She shut the door behind her once she was inside.

Above the sink, there was a mirror. Immediately, Santana saw her own reflection inside. Her eyes were red and puffy and only now did she realise she was crying. The Latina slid to her knees, holding the bottle of Vodka against her chest tightly. At first she didn't understand why she was crying, and in the next moment it felt like she never wanted to stop. A small part of her scolded herself for crying, but the other half was relieved to get it out of her system.

Santana wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard the door creak open. She kept her head down, tucked between her knees with her back against the next to the door. She couldn't bare to look up, to find out who had caught her crying. If it was Brittany…

"Santana?"

It was Rachel.

Santana expected to feel rage boil within her. She expected adrenaline to tear her up from the ground and pounce on Rachel. She expected her tongue to lash out, to call Rachel names and to curse at her loudly. But none of that ever came. She just felt weak, too tired to even yell at Rachel to get out. She was ready to accept the fact that she had lost Brittany. And she was ready to admit it wasn't entirely Rachel's fault, either. Santana had managed to lose Brittany all on her own, all because she wasn't ready to confront herself; to accept herself as she really was.

After a moment of desperate silence, Santana felt Rachel's warmth as the diva sat on the ground beside her. Santana tensed as she waited for the smaller girl to say something obnoxious, but it never came. Rachel said nothing, the smaller girl just sat beside her and waited.

Eventually, Santana looked up and met Rachel's eyes with a levelled gaze. The Latina wanted to say something, to shout or curse or to do something that was expected of her. But what was the point? It wouldn't make Brittany come back to her.

Rachel winced when Santana looked up. The Latina glanced at her reflection in the glass door of the shower, noting how her mascara had smudged beneath her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

"Are you okay?" Rachel finally asked.

Santana was surprised at the sincerity on Rachel's face. The raven-haired girl stared at her in earnest. There was no point in lying, it was clear that Santana wasn't okay. The diva had already seen her crying, what else did she have to lose? Rachel probably knew what had happened between her and Brittany, anyhow. "What do you think?" Santana had mean to sound snarky, but it came out deflated and tired.

Rachel flinched slightly, fiddling with her hands. Santana could tell that Rachel felt awkward (she wasn't the only one). "I'm sorry," Rachel said after a moment. Santana met her eyes calmly. "I'm sorry for what happened between you and Brittany."

"You-"

"Brittany didn't tell me," Rachel said quickly, drawing her knees against her chest. "If you were wondering. She hasn't said anything about it, actually. She didn't really need to. I see the way you look at her, and the way she looks at you. Is it weird that I'm actually jealous? At any moment you could sweep in and take her away from me because you have this history that I don't have with her, and I know that what you two feel for each other...well, she'll never feel that way about me."

Santana stared at Rachel blankly. Rachel avoided direct eye contact, but Santana could see the sadness behind the diva's eyes. This was when Santana realised that Rachel was just as insecure as she was. That, in less than a few ways, they were more similar than they thought. Santana couldn't help but pity Rachel, no matter how much she wanted to hate her in that moment. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in a relationship with someone who loved someone else, to know at any moment they might leave you.

"It's not that I don't trust Brittany," Rachel continued. "Because I do. I'm just scared that I might lose her. The one person who actually listens and understands me." She paused a moment. "I wouldn't even be able to hate her if she did chose you. I could never hate her."

Santana could relate. Brittany did that to you. She listened and she understood. It was hard to hate someone who loved too much.

"Why are you here?" Santana asked after a brief moment.

"Honestly? I just needed to use the restroom." Rachel laughed lightly, and then looked over to meet Santana's eyes. "But then I came in here and saw you crying."

"Why didn't you leave?"

Rachel shrugged. "Because I know Brittany wouldn't want me to. And because you seemed really upset, and even if you punched me in the face I was willing to let you if it would make you feel better."

Santana smirked slightly, wiping her eyes. "Trust me, you don't know how much I want to punch you right now." It was a lie, Santana didn't really want to punch her. But Rachel didn't need to know that.

Rachel turned around so that she was facing Santana and turned her cheek, pulling her hair back from her face. "If it's going to make you feel better, then I will allow you to have one free punch," Rachel said, closing her eyes tightly in preparation. "Just try to avoid my nose."

Santana laughed quietly, shaking her head as she stared at Rachel with a baffled look on her face. "I'm not going to punch you," she said.

Rachel opened her eyes. The shorter girl tilted her head, giving Santana a strange look. "Why not?" she asked.

"Because Brittany would never forgive me," Santana replied. The two girls shared a small, uncertain laugh.

Santana thought the sound of Rachel's laughter was strangely nice. Later she would blame this thought on the alcohol she had consumed, but she vowed to be nicer to Rachel; to try and make her laugh more, if only for her own selfish purposes.

"I really am sorry, you know," Rachel said, reaching out to touch Santana's hand. She did it gently, hesitantly, and as soon as the diva realised what she had done she snatched her hand back. But it was too late for Santana. As soon as their hands connected, Santana felt a jolt of energy race through her skin, electrifying her bones and awaking all of her senses. It was a foreign feeling, so strange that it struck Santana speechless. She stared at her hand, at the place where Rachel had touched her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to touch you - I know you don't like me, and well - I should probably-"

The next few minutes went by slowly for Santana. And she would always remember this moment, even through the haziness of her alcohol-infused mind. Santana slowly lifted her head, her eyes connecting with Rachel's lips. It was strange, the excitement she felt swirl in her gut as she thought about kissing Rachel. Without giving herself time to back down, Santana reached out and smoothed her palm over Rachel's cheek. The shorter girl flinched slightly when Santana's hand made contact, but she didn't back away. Again, the Latina felt that strange feeling flow through her skin; as though a thousand needles were pricking against her skin. Her heart raced inside of her chest, her blood pumping excitedly through her veins.

It was an experiment, Santana told herself. She wanted to figure out what this strange feeling meant. Without warning, Santana used the hand holding Rachel's face to pull her closer. Their lips met with a hard, intense pulse of electricity. Santana didn't understand what had caused her body to react in such a way. Maybe it was due to the amount of alcohol running through her system. In the deepest part of her mind, there was also the slight curious spark that wanted to know what Brittany saw in Rachel; what made the diva so special.

Santana wanted to deny the intense feeling that rattled through her body. She wanted to deny that kissing Rachel felt good. But she couldn't, because from the moment Rachel had touched her it felt like sparks of energy were running through her veins.

Rachel was still as Santana assaulted her mouth. There was a small moment in which Santana swore Rachel was kissing her back; it was slow and sweet, everything Santana had wanted with Brittany. But her kisses with Brittany had always been hungry and fiery, because Santana knew at any moment they might get caught. But the kiss was soon over, almost as fast as it had begun. Rachel pulled away, gasping, her eyes half-dazed. And all Santana could do was stare at her as a strange, foreign feeling settled deep in her gut.

"What?-" Rachel gasped.

Santana knew she should have apologised. Or said something - anything at all - but her mind was completely frazzled. She didn't know what had came over her.

"I should-" Rachel said, pointing towards the door. The small diva stood quickly to her feet, smoothing out her skirt. She glanced once at Santana on the floor, her lips fumbling as if she wanted to say something more. But she never did say anything. Instead she turned, her fingers tracing over her lips and left the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

As soon as Rachel left, Santana let out the breath she had been holding. She brought her hand to her mouth, tracing her fingertips over her lips where Rachel's had been only moments before. The deep swirling feeling in her gut twisted once more.

Quickly, Santana stood up from the ground. The room spun and twisted, and Santana had to reach out a hand to steady herself against the sink. She left the bathroom in a hurry, putting any thoughts of Rachel and their kiss behind her.

Because she most certainly wasn't attracted to Rachel Berry. And she definitely didn't want to kiss her again.

* * *

Quinn found Santana as she was stumbling down the hallway, trying to locate the front door so she could leave.

The blonde stood in the middle of the hallway, blocking the exit. But that didn't slow Santana down. She used the wall as support and stumbled her way towards Quinn. When she was close enough, Santana tried to duck under the blonde's arm. It almost worked, Santana was almost under but that's when her legs gave out and she went stumbling forwards. Quinn caught her just in time, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling Santana back to her feet.

Quinn giggled. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you."

Santana tried to wiggle out of Quinn's hold, but the blonde held on tighter. "Let me go. I have to go."

"Why?" Quinn frowned. "You can't leave yet, we were just about to play spin the bottle. And besides, Kurt is the designated driver and he won't leave without Blaine. And trust me, Blaine is _not_ ready to leave just yet."

"Fabray, if you don't let me go I swear I'll tell everyone about that one time you went to summer camp and flashed the counsellor because you thought he had a crush on you." Santana was in no mood to joke around. She felt like the walls were closing in around her. She needed some fresh air. She wouldn't - no couldn't - go back into the same room as Brittany and Rachel. She was afraid she might attack Rachel again, or even Brittany; or even both.

"Oh, no fair! I was thirteen and I mistook kindness for flirting," Quinn argued. The blonde steadied Santana so that she was standing on her own, but kept a hand on her hip just in case. "Where are you even going?"

"Home," Santana said bluntly, and once again tried to squeeze past Quinn.

The blonde stepped in front of Santana once more, placing a hand against her chest. "You can't go home on your own. Seriously, Santana, would you just look at me." Quinn grasped Santana by either side of her face and forced Santana to meet her eyes. Quinn's smile turned to a frown. "Have you been crying?" she asked gently.

"No," Santana mumbled. She tried to push Quinn's hands away, but the blonde held on.

"Santana," Quinn said, bringing the Latina's attention towards her. Their eyes met and for a long moment the two girls stared at each other in silence. Quinn questioned her silently, and Santana didn't even need to reply because she knew Quinn could read her her easily; she always had been able to. Slowly, Quinn moved her hand gently over Santana's cheek, causing shivers to vibrate through her entire body. Quinn's beautiful green eyes never wavered, keeping Santana's attention as her hands smoothed over her skin.

"What are you doing?" Santana whispered.

Quinn brought her mouth to Santana's neck and began to trail kisses along her collarbone. "Helping you forget," she said.

"Forget what?"

"About Brittany."

At the mention of Brittany's name, Santana stilled. How was it that Quinn knew her so well?

"Why?"

Quinn sighed against Santana's jaw as she pressed her lips down. "You're not the only one trying to forget someone."

Santana only just registered what Quinn said as the blonde pressed her lips against the Latina's. Their kiss was fire and hunger, desperation and loneliness. Santana felt Quinn's hands tug at her shirt, trying to draw her closer. "Who're you trying to forget?" Santana asked between kisses.

Quinn moaned against Santana's mouth. "Rachel," she said simply.

Santana's eyes widened. She wanted to ask a million questions, but Quinn's mouth didn't relent from her own. Their lips moved together in fast paces, as if they would lose each other if they pulled away. Santana's questions were suddenly lost to a daze of pleasure. She reminded herself that she would ask Quinn later, when they both had a spare moment. For now though, she wanted to lose herself in Quinn. She wanted to forget Brittany. She wanted to forget that she had kissed Rachel. She wanted to forget everything and focus on nothing.

"Why don't we move this to the bedroom?" Quinn said against Santana's lips. The Latina found herself mindlessly nodding along as she allowed herself to be pulled towards Puck's spare bedroom. Quinn kicked the door closed behind them as they fell on top of the bed, hands wandering and their breaths heavy. And for just one night Santana allowed herself to give into the loneliness that dwelled in her heart. To give in to the desperate need inside of her that wanted to be wanted. Because Quinn wanted her when no one else did, even if it was only just for one night. Even if no one else ever wanted her again.


	6. Fix You

**Woohoo! I've reached over two-hundred follows, 7,000 views and nearly one-hundred favourites! I honestly can't thank you guys enough for the amazing support for this story. All of your comments have been amazing and I can only hope to keep up the good work for you guys.**

 _ **"I don't understand our relationship. Sometimes we're friends, sometimes we're more than friends, and sometimes I'm just a stranger to you."**_

Quinn stretched out her aching muscles, stifling a yawn as she rolled onto her back. The blonde's arm hit something warm and soft. She snapped her eyes open and rolled her head to the side. Sure enough, sleeping next to her - _naked!_ \- was Santana. The events of the previous night suddenly came flooding back to Quinn in one all-consuming, jumbled headache. She remembered arriving to Puck's party with Santana, getting horrifyingly drunk (due to Tina and Mercedes' insistence), Santana confessing to her that Rachel was gay and then proceeding to have drunken sex with one of her best friends.

Weirdly enough, having sex with Santana wasn't on the top of her list of things she regretted from the previous night. Did she regret getting so drunk? Yes, the pounding headache spoke for itself. But, strangely, having sex with Santana was something she certainly did not regret. Not even a little bit. And she wasn't opposed to doing it again, either.

The moment had been spurred on by a split-second of weakness. After Santana had left the living room in a sulk, Quinn had stumbled her way to the drinks table to grab a bottle of tequila (as drunk Quinn had decided she wasn't drunk enough). But standing beside the drinks table had been Brittany and Rachel, chatting innocently to Artie and Tina. Quinn had noticed something that the others hadn't. Her eyes were drawn to Brittany's hand that was placed around Rachel's waist. She was sure that if Santana hadn't told her that the two girls were dating, she would have just dismissed it. But, because she knew differently, Quinn couldn't just dismiss it. In fact, it was all she could think about - Brittany and Rachel touching each other. It stirred a jealously deep within Quinn, setting her heart on fire and her head into a craze of unanswerable thoughts.

 _Could that have been me? If I'd been honest with her - with myself - could I have been with Rachel?_

It wasn't a well known fact that Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray used to be friends. With the way Quinn treated Rachel, it was no wonder that nobody suspected it. But both girls, once upon a time, had been great friends. Quinn was only eight-years-old when Rachel Berry, along with her two gay dads, moved into her neighbourhood. Quinn's mother had immediately permitted her from speaking to Rachel. The blonde had asked why, but her mother had only replied: "We don't associate ourselves with sinners." It wasn't until Quinn was older that she really understood what her mother had meant.

But, despite her mother, Quinn had been drawn to Rachel. Rachel Berry was different than the other children her age. She was loud, opinionated, and above all, ambitious, but that's what made her unique. Rachel wasn't afraid to show the world how different she was and she wasn't afraid to voice her opinion...even if everyone else in the room opposed it. Quinn supposed that's what drew her in. Rachel had been everything Quinn was afraid of being. Quinn kept herself in line, she never voiced her own opinion but the opinion that the people around her wanted to hear; what her parent's wanted to hear.

Quinn would meet Rachel in the small park that divided their houses, where the blonde's mother wouldn't see them playing together. For the most part, the pair had been inseparable.

That had all changed when Quinn turned fourteen and started to become aware of the world, aware of herself, and most importantly, aware of her attraction towards Rachel.

Quinn didn't understand the feelings she started having for Rachel. While other girls were giggling and gossiping about which male celebrity they thought was hot, fourteen-year-old Quinn could only fantasise about Rachel - what kissing Rachel would feel like. Quinn had thought she was freak. Was there something wrong with her? Why wasn't she attracted to boys like the other girls were? What if Rachel found out? She didn't like that she was different from the other girls. She didn't like that part of herself that made her different.

By the time high school came around, Quinn had learned to suppress her feelings for Rachel. But suppressing her feelings had made Quinn distant. She thought that if she spent less time around Rachel, perhaps her feelings would fade. Maybe it was just a phase? Eventually, Quinn had stopped hanging around with Rachel all together. Rachel had texted her, called, and even tried to confront her in person. The short diva wanted to know why Quinn had suddenly gone cold. Quinn knew Rachel deserved an answer, but she couldn't give her the real one...she wouldn't. But the blonde also knew that she couldn't be nice to her, because Rachel was stubborn and the only way to cut her loose was to show the brunette she really meant it.

It wasn't easy slushying Rachel. The look on the short diva's face afterwards had been horrible. Quinn wanted to breakdown right then, to run to Rachel and apologise a thousands times over. But then the head cheerleader, Kirsten, had came over and asked Quinn if she wanted to join the cheerios. The blonde had looked at Rachel then, with the crowd around her laughing at the brunette's expense. The look in Rachel's eyes had been pure hatred, and Quinn knew no matter how much she apologised she could never take it back. Rachel would never forgive her.

"Hey," Santana said with a yawn. Quinn looked at Santana. Sunlight was peaking in from the open window across the room, teasing light over the curve of Santana's exposed hip. The Latina smiled prettily, a stray curl of hair hanging loosely over her cheek. Out of impulse, Quinn reached over and pushed the stray curl behind the Latina's ear, her fingers lingering over Santana's smooth skin.

Quinn drank in the sight of Santana then; her tanned flesh highlighted by the sun, her hair dishevelled and her dark eyes bright with curiosity. The sight completely took her breath away.

"Hi," Quinn replied.

It was strange how relaxed Quinn felt. She expected to feel awkward, perhaps a little shy or regretful, but lying with Santana in that moment felt natural to Quinn. As though they had been waking up beside each other every morning for five years.

The pair stared at each other for a long while, just taking in the moment. Quinn felt like she could have lay in bed all day. What had spurred her to kiss Santana the previous night, Quinn couldn't decide. Perhaps she had finally given in to her loneliness. Maybe she was just tired of trying to hide who she really was. It could have possibly been because she was heart-stricken to find out the girl that she had loved for most of her life was with some one else. A girl nonetheless, a girl that could have been Quinn.

"So, about last night..." Quinn felt her cheeks warm.

Santana smiled devilishly. "I told you I should have cut you off. Turns out you did do something stupid."

Quinn laughed. "Yeah, well, it's not like you can get me pregnant so I'd say we're good."

Santana smirked as she rolled onto her back, shifting the covers over her chest. "Let's just not make this awkward, okay? So we had sex - big deal! Friends have sex all the time. And can I just say, it was pretty good sex, too. But we don't have to make things weird."

"I completely agree." Quinn couldn't remove the smile that took over her face. Something inside of her was compelled by the satisfied smirk upon Santana's lips. It was like she was under the raven-haired girl's spell - mind, body, and soul bewitched. And there was no hope of escape.

Santana glared at her. "I'm serious, Quinn. We're not making this weird."

Quinn's smile widened. "I told you; I agree with you."

"Then could you stop smiling at me like you're a crack whore and I'm your frikin' drug dealer?" Santana groaned.

"Sorry," Quinn apologised. She laughed, rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her smile dimmed, but not completely. Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde could see Santana smiling just as broadly.

They lay there in a comfortable silence for a while. Quinn was playing with the bedsheets when she felt her hand brush Santana's by accident. The blonde side glanced at Santana to see her reaction, but the Latina remained still. When Santana didn't seem to reject, Quinn decided to explore. She slid her fingers down Santana's arm until their hands were aligned. Quinn slipped her fingers into Santana's, feeling her heartbeat quicken inside of her chest. Electric danced along the flesh of Quinn's arm where it was touching Santana's. The blonde turned to look at Santana to see if the other girl could feel same thing, but when she looked over the Latina was already staring back. There was something lustful in Santana's gaze, a hunger that had Quinn's insides squirming.

Quinn was just about to lean over and capture Santana's lips when the door to the bedroom opened. The blonde let out a shriek as she pulled the blanket over her shoulders. Santana wriggled further under the blankets, too, glaring at the doorway. Noah Puckerman stood inside the doorway, one hand on the handle as his mouth hung open in disbelief. He stood there for a short moment, looking baffled, before a slow smile crept onto his face.

"Didn't know you were into girls, Quinn," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "If I'd known there was a party, I would have invited myself."

Santana scoffed. She reached behind her and pulled the pillow out from beneath her head, throwing it at Puck. He caught it with ease, laughing loudly. "Get the fuck out you pervert!" the Latina shouted.

Puck threw the pillow back at Santana and left the room laughing, shutting the door gently behind him.

Once he was gone, Quinn released a heavy sigh. she felt concern start to creep into her chest. "Shouldn't we go after him? You know, tell him not to sa-"

"Relax," Santana interrupted Quinn's thought. The raven-haired girl crawled out from under the covers, stood up and stretched out her muscles. Quinn couldn't help but admire Santana's figure. "Puck knows about me. He's one of the only few that know. He's cool, he won't say anything. Although, he might ask you for a threesome."

Quinn huffed. _Typical Puck._

Santana snatched her bra from the ground and slipped it on. "How about breakfast?" she asked suddenly.

Half-dazed, Quinn scrunched her brow and looked at Santana. "What?"

"Breakfast? Nothing cures a hangover better than food."

Quinn smiled and sat up, looking across the floor for her clothes. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

The best thing about breakfast was the coffee. Quinn had already drank two cups and was onto her third. Santana had brought Quinn to a small bakery that was only a ten minute walk from Puck's house. Quinn had never been before, but Santana claimed it was her favourite place to eat because the owner baked everything fresh that morning. It was quite empty inside, but the old woman behind the counter was sweet. She had even added a little caramel to Quinn's coffee (per Santana's suggestion) - which tasted amazing. But, more importantly, it cured her hangover.

"So, how did Puck find out about - you know - your 'situation'?" Quinn didn't know how to approach the topic. It had been picking away at her ever since Puck had caught them in bed together. She was afraid he would tell people. The blonde wasn't ashamed of Santana, nothing like that, but if word got around it might just be enough to ruin her. As if getting knocked up at sixteen wasn't enough to damage a girl's reputation. It wasn't that Quinn was too bothered about her reputation, more like she just wasn't ready to face the backlash of what announcing her sexuality would do.

Also, Quinn remembered that she had confessed something to Santana the night before; something that insinuated that she wanted Rachel Berry (which she did). Santana hadn't mentioned it thus far, but Quinn presumed it was only a matter of time before the raven-haired girl asked.

Santana shrugged, sipping her hot-chocolate. "Puck and I have known each other since we were kids. I guess at some point he figured it out. It didn't help that I was more interested in checking out girls than boys. He didn't say anything to me initially, but I knew he'd figured it out. He waited, though, until I told him because he didn't want to force me to come out."

Quinn nodded slowly.

"Don't worry, Q," Santana said, smirking. "Like I said before, Puck won't say anything. He's a man-whore, for sure, but he's not an asshole."

"Are you sure about that?" Quinn asked, cocking her eyebrow.

Santana laughed. "Okay. Okay. He's an asshole, but he's an asshole with morals."

Quinn smiled around her coffee cup. The blonde liked how simple it was with Santana - how it seemed like nothing had changed, even though everything had. It wasn't like her time with Puck where she had woke up the next morning and felt sick to her stomach. Both Quinn and Puck had regretted it, and the five minutes it took for Quinn to get redressed was the longest five minutes of her life. For several weeks after Quinn hadn't even been able to look Puck in the eyes without being reminded of that night and feeling ashamed. Of course, when she had found out she was pregnant it made everything more complicated, but she knew she could no longer avoid him. However, with Santana it was different. They were friends before, and they were still friends after, even if their relationship had changed course slightly. But it wasn't awkward. In fact, the two of them together almost seemed right.

Across the table, Santana suddenly sat up straight and placed her cup of hot-chocolate on the table. The Latina had a horrified look on her face, and Quinn turned just in time to see Brittany making her way towards their table.

" _Shit,_ " Santana muttered under her breath. "I forgot Brittany liked this place, too."

Brittany was frowning as she approached the table. She wore a white knitted-hat with bunny ears - which Quinn found completely adorable - and a pair of light skinny jeans. She stopped when she reached the table, her eyes focused on Santana, and folded her arms under her breasts. "Why did you kiss Rachel?" she asked bluntly.

At the admission, Quinn felt her eyes widen and she turned to face Santana. The Latina's face had turned a deep shade of red and Quinn could tell that she was trying to fumble up a reasonable excuse. Quinn might have taken Brittany's side, asked the same question, but suddenly her thoughts were consumed with jealousy. She felt slightly hurt before she realised that she had nothing to be hurt about. Rachel wasn't her girlfriend. Heck, she wasn't even her _friend._ Rachel harboured no feelings for her and therefore Quinn had no right to feel hurt. But, nevertheless, Quinn did. Only, she couldn't quite figure out the reason why. Hurt that Santana had kissed someone else the same night? Or hurt that it had been Rachel - the girl she liked - of all people?

"What? Did you expect Rachel not to tell me? She's my girlfriend, of course she was going to tell me." Quinn had never seen Brittany this mad before. It didn't feel right. Brittany wasn't ever angry or upset, she was always smiling, and this more than anything made Quinn want to leap up and hug her friend.

"Of course not, Brittany, it's just that I-" Santana paused, shrugging as she struggled to find her words. "I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing. Rachel was there and - look, it wasn't her fault."

"I know it wasn't her fault," Brittany said. The tips of her ears had turned red. "It was your fault. Did you do it for revenge? To get back at me? Just because you don't want me, I can't be happy? Is that it?"

"What? No!" Santana pushed back her chair, standing to her feet. The Latina held out her hands in a calming motion. "Listen to me, Britt, it was just a stupid mistake okay. I never intended to hurt you. I _never_ wanted to hurt you."

Brittany started at Santana for a long moment. She sighed heavily, her shoulders deflating. "I know," she said softly. "I know you don't want to hurt me, San. I just think we need to be around each other a little less right now. You're dealing with your own stuff, and Rachel and I are in a good place at the moment and I don't want it to seem like we're rubbing it in your face. I just - I think _I_ need a little time to figure myself out; to figure out who I am without you."

Quinn noticed the hurt that flashed over Santana's face. It was gone in an instant, hidden behind the mask Santana showed to the world. But Quinn could see behind the mask, she always had been able to. Santana had never been able to lie to her.

Santana nodded slowly. "Okay," she said, avoiding Brittany's gaze.

"Okay," Brittany repeated. For a short moment the two girl's stood in complete silence. Then, Brittany turned, flashing a small smile in Quinn's direction before she left the bakery.

As soon as Brittany left, Santana slumped back into her seat.

Quinn's couldn't stop herself from asking, "You kissed Rachel?"

Santana moaned. "Not now, Quinn."

"Then when? When is a better time than now?"

"It was a drunken mistake, okay," Santana said, raising her voice. "It was a moment of desperation and I've regretted it every moment since."

And then there it was, the slight quiver of Santana's bottom lip. It was her tell, the way Quinn had always knew Santana was lying. The Latina didn't regret kissing Rachel at all, not one bit.

"Liar." Quinn decided to call her out. She wanted to know why. Was it revenge, like Brittany had presumed? Or was it to hurt Rachel by destroying their relationship?

Had Rachel kissed back?

Santana glared at her. The raven-haired girl picked up her hot-chocolate (or now, cold-chocolate) and drank the rest of the contents inside the cup. "I'm not lying. I'm a shitty person, I know, but hurting Brittany was never my agenda. I would _never_ hurt her."

"I know you wouldn't, Santana. I'm not saying you don't regret hurting Brittany. But I know you, and I know you don't regret kissing Rachel."

"Why are you so interested, huh, Q?" Santana avoided answering her directly, switching the attention away from herself. Just what Santana knew how to do best: avoid difficult conversations.

"I'm not." Quinn, however, wasn't always the best at counteracting the attention. She wasn't always such a great liar, either.

"Really? So it doesn't bother you that I kissed Rachel? That the girl you've been in love with for years kissed me?"

Quinn wrinkled her nose, glancing down at the bottom of her empty coffee cup. "I wouldn't exactly say love."

"And I wouldn't exactly say Rachel was your type." Santana crossed her arms over her chest.

"Touché." Quinn narrowed her eyes at the Latina.

Santana sighed heavily, slumping in her seat. The raven-haired girl met Quinn's eyes. "We're not doing this right now," she said, shaking her head. "We're not going to be those type of people who get angry over things that are in the past and beyond our control."

"So, if we're not those type of people, then what type of people are we then?" This question had been bothering Quinn all morning. Sure, their friendship didn't seem to be destroyed, but neither of them could deny that things were different now - that _feelings_ were different now, even if they were only sexual feelings. It made Quinn wonder where they were going. Who was she to Santana now?

"Let's just get this straight right now. I'm not Rachel, okay? I won't worship the ground you walk on. I won't hold your hand in public. I don't do relationships. And I'm certainly not one of those people who sits and talks about their feelings. This - whatever _this_ is - is casual. Nothing more."

Quinn nodded slowly, processing this information. "Fine. Then just so _you_ know: I'm not Brittany, either. You can't substitute whatever feelings you have for her with me. This is whatever it is. We use each other because we can't have them."

"Fine," Santana replied.

"Fine." Quinn wasn't sure what exactly this meant for them, but she wasn't sure it was entirely bad either. For the longest time, the only person she had ever thought about was Rachel. But now, with Santana, it was exciting - it was new - something completely unexplored. And Santana was willing to take it slow. Neither girl was ready to admit to their own feelings and that's what made it easy. With Santana and Brittany, it hadn't worked because Brittany accepted who she was, but Santana wasn't at that point.

Perhaps, Quinn thought, they could help each other figure out who they were - and just exactly what they both wanted.

* * *

Santana rolled off of Quinn, smiling blissfully. The blonde panted heavily on the bed beside her. She could feel sweat begin to bead on her forehead, her hair sticking to her face. But despite all of this, Quinn smiled. It had been a few weeks since the occurrence at Puck's party, and Santana and Quinn had spent most of their time since in either Quinn's bed or Santana's. It had been nice spending time with Santana, curled up in bed, just forgetting about the world and everyone in it. It was just the two of them. And Quinn very much liked it that way. It meant she could forget about all of her problems - especially a short problem by the name Rachel Berry.

Locked away from the outside world, it was easy to forget that anything else mattered. That what she was doing with Santana went against everything that she had fought hard not to be. The problem was that Quinn was beginning to feel too comfortable. She would find herself staring at Santana a lot, or she would do simple actions like play with the Latina's hair or trace her shoulder blades with a finger. Small, comfortable gestures that only people in a relationship would do. And Quinn was pretty sure they weren't in a relationship...and she wasn't even sure if she was ready for one, to be honest. It was only a few weeks before that she had even truly acknowledged her sexuality when she'd slept with Santana for the first time.

But recently, Quinn had started to feel a little more comfortable with herself. Santana did that to you. Her confidence, even if it was put on half the time, was infectious. It made you believe anything was possible. By no means was Quinn ready to tell the world that she, in fact, liked girls - but she was beginning to accept herself on a more personal level. She was learning to understand herself. That didn't mean she was beginning to accept herself, but it was surely a start.

When Quinn turned onto her side, Santana was already looking back at her, a faint smile on her face. The blonde smiled back and reached out, using her forefinger to trace a line down the Latina's arm. "So, I was thinking we could go out this week. Maybe go see a movie or something?" Quinn asked. Maybe she was asking too much of Santana, but Quinn was beginning to feel things for the Latina that she quite didn't understand yet. She thought it was simple, really. Just like she would with a guy, she would go out on a date with Santana and see where it lead them. She didn't expect hand holding or any public displays of affection, Quinn was merely experimenting. She didn't want to do anything Santana didn't feel comfortable with, but Quinn had never been in a relationship with a girl before and it was hard trying to figure out how act around different situations.

As soon as Quinn asked the question though, the smile on Santana's face disappeared. The Latina lay still for a long moment, inspecting Quinn's face with a hard scrutiny. Quinn saw the moment Santana's mask went back on - the mask the blonde had been working hard to remove.

Perhaps Quinn had asked too much too soon. She'd just thought that Santana had maybe felt the same way.

Santana sat up, draping her feet over the side of the bed. "I don't think we should. I mean, this is only casual right?"

For some reason, those words were like a punch to Quinn's heart. The blonde tended not to let things get to her that much. For most of her life, she had turned off her emotions and refused to let anything phase her. Having parent's like Quinn's made you like that. But, with Santana, she had let those walls come down and she had shown Santana her vulnerability. She had exposed herself completely in front of her, and now Santana rejection felt like a punch in the gut.

Something snapped inside of Quinn. She decided not to hold back, even if she would regret it later. "Is this how you pushed Brittany away?"

Santana turned around to look at Quinn in shock. "What?" she asked.

"Is this how you pushed Brittany away?" Quinn repeated. "Why she went running into Rachel's arms? You know, if there is anything I've learned about you these past few weeks it's that you're not afraid of your sexuality, Santana, you're just afraid of letting anyone in...letting anyone see the real you because you're scared that they might not like what they find. You push and you push - you push until finally the cord snaps and they let go because it hurts too much to hold on any more. Just because you don't want anyone to get close enough to hurt you. Because they can't hurt you if you push them away first, isn't that right?"

Santana frowned. The Latina's fists clenched the bedsheets she held to her body as something dangerous gleamed behind her eyes. Quinn knew she had snapped, let her frustration get the better of her, perhaps even gone a little too far, but she wouldn't take any of it back even if she could. Santana needed to hear it, if only for her own benefit. The Latina needed someone to open her eyes for her, otherwise she was going to push everyone away until she had no one left.

"And what about you, huh?" Santana countered. "You're in love with Rachel - you have been for a while. God, you talk about me being afraid of facing my own feelings yet you can't even talk to Rachel without insulting her. Your whole life you've treated her like trash because you're too damn stubborn to confront the feelings you have for her. You were horrible to her in hopes that your feelings would just magically go away, but the only thing it resulted in is her hating you!" Santana's chest rose and fell violently from her outburst. "You're a hypocrite, Quinn. Try fixing yourself before you try and fix me."

Everything Santana said was true. Quinn did hope that her feelings for Rachel would go away. She'd hoped that Rachel hating her would make them disappear. But it hadn't. And, yes, she was a hypocrite. But she was only a hypocrite because she couldn't fix herself. Quinn Fabray was, in her own eyes, far beyond fixable. She had destroyed herself, tore down her own self-esteem just to build it back up upon lies. Quinn had built herself a new life - a lie - and that lie was now engrained into her soul.

But that didn't mean Santana wasn't beyond fixing. She just had to accept that she was broken, before she could be fixed.

"I should go," Santana said after a moment. She picked up her clothes from the floor and threw them on. The Latina avoided Quinn's gaze the whole time. Once Santana was dressed, she headed towards the door. She paused, her hand gripping the handle, and glanced over her shoulder. "I don't think we should do this any more."

Quinn stared at Santana. She hadn't moved from the bed; she couldn't find the energy to. She just felt weak. "So you're just going to run away from your problems?" she asked.

Santana opened the door and before leaving she said, "That's what I do best."

Quinn didn't move for a long time after Santana left. She just stared at the empty space on her bed, where only moments before Santana had lay.

The blonde didn't realise she was crying until a heavy, warm tear rolled down her cheek.

* * *

The only thing Quinn felt was numbness. After Santana had left, Quinn had cried for almost an hour. She felt stupid for crying over something that wasn't - and never would have been - anything other than sex. Because to Santana Lopez, sex wasn't dating. But Quinn had deluded herself into believing that they could have been something more. Santana had helped Quinn explore parts of herself that she never allowed anyone to see before. She had opened herself up and allowed someone in for the first time. And that someone had torn her heart out and set it alight.

But aside from losing a lover, Quinn had also lost a friend.

At this point, Quinn would have called someone to talk to so that she didn't feel so alone. But the only person that she wanted to talk to was Santana, and the blonde was pretty sure the Latina wouldn't answer if she called.

She had ruined everything. She had ruined everything and she missed Santana.

Quinn didn't know why she ended up at the park across from her house. After she'd stopped crying, she had gotten dressed and left the house, hoping a little fresh air would clear her head. Somehow, her feet had carried her to her favourite childhood playground. The blonde smiled at the rusted, orange swings that were nestled into one corner of the park, surrounded by thick bushes. Quinn sat down on one of them and used her feet to swing herself, the rusted chains squeaking each time she moved.

The blonde sat their until the sun began to dip in the sky, night time drawing in closer. She was about to stand up and head home when she heard her name being called. She turned her head and saw Rachel standing a few feet away, a curious look on her face.

"Rachel?" Quinn was surprised to see the short diva.

"Hi." Rachel smiled awkwardly as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn looked around before shrugging. She didn't want to get into details with Rachel, not when her head seemed jumbled enough already.

"I was under the assumption that you stopped coming here when we started high school?" Rachel hesitantly stepped closer, as if she was trying to get a reaction out of Quinn.

"I still come here from time-to-time," Quinn said. She nodded at the swing beside her, offering Rachel to sit down. "It helps me clear my head."

Rachel hesitantly took a seat on the swing beside Quinn. "Me too."

Quinn wondered why Rachel needed to clear her head. Was it because of her kiss with Santana? "Is everything okay with you and Brittany?" Quinn asked. Rachel turned to stare at the blonde bewilderedly. "Santana told me. I hope that's okay."

Rachel nodded her head slowly before shrugging. "It's fine. People are going to find out sooner or later, anyhow. But, yes, everything is fine with me and Brittany."

Quinn nodded. She shoved her hands into her jacket pocket, feeling the brisk wind sweep through her hair. Santana's words echoed in her mind and Quinn began to process a million thoughts. There was several things the blonde wished to say to Rachel. She wanted to take back every nasty word she had ever said to the short diva. She wanted to go back in time and stop herself from pushing Rachel away. She wanted to find enough courage to tell Rachel the truth, that she'd like her all along and that's why she had been so mean. Instead, she settled for, "I'm sorry."

Rachel blanched, her forehead crunching together. "Excuse me?"

Quinn took a deep breath as she struggled to find her courage. "I want to say this now because I don't know when I'll get the opportunity to say it again: I'm sorry. I'm sorry for slushying you, I'm sorry for calling you mean names, I'm sorry for slapping you in the girls bathroom the night of prom - but most of all, I'm sorry that I pushed you away when we got to high school. If I hadn't, maybe we would still be friends right now. Pushing you away is my one great regret." Quinn allowed Rachel to process this. The brunette seemed miles away, her eyes distant and weary as she gripped the chains of her swing, her fingers turning white from the pressure.

After a moment, Rachel blinked and slowly met Quinn's eyes. "I'm not going to lie and say that you didn't hurt me. Because you did, Quinn. When you started ignoring me, I blamed myself. I thought I'd done something wrong." Rachel paused, sighing heavily. "I'm not going to pretend to understand why you did it. But, I am willing to accept your apology. I've come to understand that people make mistakes. We're all only human. And if I were to hold grudges over every wrong deed done to me, I would have no friends."

Quinn smiled when Rachel did, though she couldn't help but feel guilty. The blonde felt like she didn't deserve Rachel's forgiveness, no matter how much she had wanted it. After everything Quinn had done, why was Rachel willing to forgive her so easily? It didn't seem right to Quinn. Rachel had always been too nice for her own good. People often didn't see that side of the diva. They just saw someone with big dreams and an even bigger ambition. But Rachel was easily one of the kindest people Quinn had ever met, and certainly one of the most forgiving.

"Thank you," Quinn said earnestly.

Rachel smiled in response. After a moment, the brunette chuckled to herself and turned to Quinn. "Do you remember we were eight? And your horrible neighbour, Charlie, used to claim that these swings were his and he wouldn't let anyone play on them?"

Quinn smiled fondly at the memory. "It was the day we first met. You had just moved into the neighbourhood and you didn't know about Charlie's 'rules'. You were playing on these swings when Charlie came over and pushed you off. I remember you cut your knee and you were really upset, so I went over and knocked Charlie off the swing and helped you back on."

"Charlie never came back to the park again after that. I think you scared him." Rachel laughed, meeting Quinn's eyes. "You never told me why you helped me. Why until that day you had never stood up to Charlie?"

Quinn shrugged, looking at the ground. In truth, Quinn had hated seeing Rachel cry. It had made her angry that Charlie had hurt Rachel. They had never spoken a day before that, but Quinn saw it as the perfect opportunity to start. "You were crying. The only way to shut you up was to get the swing back for you," she joked.

"I was not crying!" Rachel exclaimed in protest. The brunette reached over and pushed at Quinn's shoulder playfully.

At Rachel's touch, Quinn felt her heartbeat quicken. The blonde had never been nervous before, but now, around Rachel, she found her palms sweating and she wasn't where to look. "Oh, well I seem to remember a young Rachel Berry crying, telling Charlie that she would 'call him out by name' in her Tony acceptance speech one day." Quinn smiled at the horrified look on Rachel's face.

"Well, I don't seem to remember it going anything like that. Clearly you're delusional," Rachel huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, I'm delusional?" Quinn laughed.

"Yes, clearly."

"Clearly," Quinn said sarcastically. Rachel burst out into laughter. The sound of Rachel's laughter was sweet to Quinn's ears. She hadn't heard Rachel laugh in so long, and the sound caused a fondness to swell in the blonde's heard. It caused feelings of nostalgia to ripple through her chest. Quinn didn't know spurred her to say what she did next, but as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she instantly wanted to take them back. "I've missed you."

Rachel looked at Quinn oddly, her lips sealed shut as she smile died from her face. Quinn felt her heart racing wildly inside of her chest. She had gotten so carried away reminiscing about the past that she'd forgotten all of the nasty things that she had done to Rachel - that the short diva probably hated her.

"I missed you, too," Rachel said.

The words made Quinn's eyes go wide. At first, Quinn thought she was dreaming. How could Rachel have missed her? When Quinn had been so horrible for years. Did Rachel not hate her?

But it wasn't a dream. Rachel was real. The moment was real. And suddenly Santana's words came rushing back to Quinn.

 _You're in love with Rachel - you have been for a while._

 _You're a hypocrite, Quinn. Try fixing yourself before you try and fix me._

It was in that moment that Quinn decided it was time. It was time to try and fix herself, or at least fix her mistakes. Telling Rachel how she felt wouldn't fix the past or erase all of her mistakes, but it was a start. Santana had been right. How did Quinn expect Santana to face herself if Quinn wasn't willing to either?

Quinn was ready. She was ready to face herself because no matter how far she tried to run away from everything, there was nowhere she could hide. She loved Rachel, and she always had. Even if Rachel rejected her, Quinn knew she had to put herself out there or else she would be left wondering for the rest of her life whether or not Rachel loved her too.

But just as Quinn was about to tell Rachel this, the short diva began to speak, "While you're here, and since we seem to be speaking about regrets and mistakes, I just wanted to say something," Rachel said, meeting Quinn's eyes. "I want you to know that I don't think you should date Finn. I know that you have been looking to get back together with him, but I don't think you should. I know you think you love him, but you don't. I realised a while ago that dating Finn was just an illusion, and the reality of the relationship sucked. You deserve so much better than him, Quinn." Rachel shook her head, taking a deep breath. "Finn damaged me. I know that might sound a little dramatic, but it's the truth. For a long time I accepted the way he treated me because I believed that's the way love was supposed to be. Then Brittany came along and she fixed me; she taught me how I _should_ be loved. I mean, maybe it's not love just yet, perhaps it never will be, but she taught me that I should never settle. That I should never put a price on my worth. But you're worth more than what Finn cane give you, and you shouldn't settle for second best, Quinn."

The adoration in Rachel's eyes as she spoke about Brittany caused jealousy to run through Quinn's veins. It would have been easy in that moment to confess how she felt, to potentially ruin whatever relationship Brittany and Rachel had going on just so Quinn could fix herself.

But Quinn had never been one for easy. The blonde smiled in reply to Rachel and nodded her head, pretending to agree with her.

Quinn was willing to let Rachel believe she was fawning over Finn. Because Quinn, in that moment, realised that she wasn't the only one that needed to be fixed. More so, Rachel needed to be fixed. And a large part of that fixing was due to Quinn - the person that had broke her the most.

Rachel was finally happy, Quinn could see it in the way she spoke about Brittany. And the blonde wasn't about to allow herself to ruin the diva's happiness once more. She wasn't going to break Rachel just so she could fix herself.

Because if Quinn couldn't be happy, at least Rachel could be.


	7. Nobody To Blame

**"To love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to be loved by the person you love is everything and the best feeling ever."**

Does it hurt? Yes, it hurts. It hurts to be afraid to be loved. Santana allowed herself to push everyone around her away - even those that tried to stay. And yet, she is completely powerless to stop herself because in the end, she can't control it. She's not even sure if she _wants_ to control it. She's been living this way for so long - guarded her heart at every turn - and it's not easy to change, to allow herself some comfort when all she's ever known is heart-ache. And even knowing this, knowing there's a possibility for her to change...she doesn't change. Because there will always be a voice inside of her head telling her that she isn't worthy; that she doesn't deserve to be loved.

Brittany had almost changed that.

 _Almost._

If there was one thing that Santana didn't miss about her relationship with Brittany, it surely had to be the intimacy.

It was different with other people - with Puck and the other Jocks. She knew what they wanted: sex. It was that simple. They would have sex, and afterwards, they would leave. It was simple. It was easy. Santana expected nothing less and they wanted nothing more.

Except Brittany had stayed. Every time. And most of the time she wanted to _talk._ Nothing serious, it never included talk about any actual feelings - because Brittany knew Santana exceptionally well - but they would talk. They would talk about school, their family and friends, Glee club and the solo's they'd sung that week. Brittany had always managed to compliment Santana in some way. And she did it so subtly that Santana hardly knew the blonde had done it. Before long, Santana had gotten used to Brittany staying after they'd had sex. She even looked forward to it. Sometimes - but only _sometimes_ \- she even enjoyed the talking more than the actual sex.

Brittany had managed to creep her way into Santana's heart and the Latina had almost allowed herself to feel worthy of Brittany's affection.

 _Almost._

Quinn's words echoed inside of Santana's head. _Because they can't hurt you if you push them away first, isn't that right?_

 _No, it's not right, Quinn._ Santana didn't push people away before they could hurt her. She was used to being hurt. No, she pushed them away before _she_ could hurt _them._ Because Santana Lopez didn't do relationship - and sex certainly wasn't dating.

Nevertheless, Santana loved Brittany. She loved Brittany so fiercely that it scared her to admit it to herself. So, instead of admitting this to herself and to Brittany, she had pushed the blonde away. Not because she was afraid of Brittany hurting her, but because she was afraid of hurting Brittany. And she never wanted to hurt Brittany. _Never._ If they had stayed together, it would have been that much harder to say goodbye in the future - as there was always a goodbye. Because Santana wasn't worthy of Brittany's love. Because Santana didn't allow herself to be loved.

Quinn was only supposed to be something fun. They were only supposed to be _casual._ She'd thought Quinn had understood that. It was only supposed to be sex - strictly no feelings involved. She'd thought Quinn only wanted her because she couldn't have Rachel, and she only wanted Quinn because she wasn't worthy to be loved by Brittany. But then Quinn, without either of them knowing, had somehow found her way past Santana's barrier and into her heart. Santana couldn't pin-point exactly when it happened. Perhaps when they'd slept together for the first time - or, perhaps it was after they'd had sex, when Quinn would reach out and traced a finger gently over Santana skin. She'd found a way into Santana's heart, just like Brittany had. Except it was different with Quinn, because Quinn had never asked for any commitment like Brittany had.

Until she did. Until Quinn had asked her out.

Maybe Santana had overreacted by leaving. She was more than willing to admit that she was foolish for running away. But, that's all she knew how to do. She wasn't good with difficult situations - it was easier to run than have to face the hard decisions. She'd been doing it her whole life. It's what she was used to; running away when things got too hard. It was the only thing she knew how to do.

And when Quinn had asked her out, she could feel the walls begin to close in around her. She could feel herself slowly suffocating and the only way to relieve her suffering was to run.

Then she realised - the cold, hard truth slapping her in the face - that she wasn't worthy of Quinn's love, either.

* * *

Being back at school was strangely exciting. For Santana, it meant that she could get lost in her studies and forget all about Quinn and Brittany. And even her kiss with Rachel - which she certainly had _not_ been thinking about. Sure, it was hard avoiding said girls, considering they were all in Glee club and Brittany was a cheerleader, but Santana had made a point of hanging out with the other cheerleaders - the ones she knew neither Brittany, nor Quinn (or even Rachel for that matter) - liked.

Santana had managed to make it through first and second period without seeing any of them.

Until _it_ happened.

Until she saw Brittany and Rachel walking down the hallway, hand-in-hand.

The pair seemed oblivious to the stares as they walked towards Rachel's locker. The noise in the hallway had quietened, but only for a moment as it suddenly became abuzz with the loud chatter of students.

 _Are they together? Gross._

 _Huh - I always knew Berry was a queer, but I didn't know Brittany was, too._

 _Brittany and Berry? How the fuck did that happen._

 _Wait...isn't Brittany with Santana? That's gotta sting._

The last comment had came from somewhere behind Santana. The Latina turned and found a short, red-headed girl standing behind her with two other girls. She glared at them, and the red-headed girl - the one who'd spoken - quickly closed her locker and hurried away, her friends following behind her.

Santana didn't even care that the girl had presumed that she and Brittany had been together. Strangely, she didn't even care any more if people knew she liked girls.

Santana didn't even care that the girl had presumed that she and Brittany were together. Strangely, she found herself no longer caring if people found out that she liked girls. She didn't care what people would say behind her back. She just didn't care any more. She had nothing left. She had successfully pushed Brittany away. She had managed to push Quinn away, too. She had no one left. She had nothing left.

The Latina glanced at Rachel and Brittany. The tall blonde was holding Rachel's books while the shorter girl placed some of them inside of her locker, laughing at something Brittany was saying. It made Santana sick to her stomach. It made her sick because she knew that if she wasn't the way she was - if she wasn't who she was - she could have been with Brittany instead of Rachel. She could have been the one holding Brittany's hand.

Then Santana reminded herself that she didn't deserve Brittany. Because Brittany was far too sweet and kind and beautiful, everything that Santana didn't deserve. Because Santana was mean, rude, and someone like Brittany surely deserved someone better than Santana.

Santana closed her locker. She felt herself on the verge of tears (she'd been crying a lot, recently) as jealousy trembled through her veins. She walked quickly towards the girls bathroom, hoping not to draw any attention to herself - especially not _their_ attention. Once inside, she leaned against the closed door and clenched her fists tightly. When she was sure no one else was in the bathroom, she let the first wave of tears fall.

But Santana didn't cry for Brittany. Neither did she cry for Quinn. She cried for herself, and for just how much she had managed to fuck up.

Because Santana had nobody to blame but herself.

* * *

Santana had skipped third and fourth period. She had stayed inside of the girls bathroom until the bell for third period had sounded and the hallways had cleared out. Then Santana had made her way outside, towards the football bleachers, and sat on the ground underneath them, in a corner usually reserved for the _Skanks._

 _Skanks._ Ha! Santana found the name absolutely ridiculous, considering none of the so-called _Skanks_ had actually had sex. The name was more befitting of the cheerleaders.

It was raining out today, but it didn't bother Santana. She let the cool rain wash over her skin and allowed her tears to mix in with the water running down her cheeks.

Out of all the things Santana regretted, in that moment she mostly regretted snapping at Quinn. Because Quinn was the only person Santana felt like talking to. Quinn knew her better than most; the blonde knew her sometimes even better than she knew herself. She wanted Quinn to slap some sense into her, like she knew her friend would've done if she'd seen her right now. She wanted Quinn to tell her to grow some balls, to suck it up and head back into school with her head held high like it was nobody's business.

But Quinn wasn't there to do that. Because Santana had managed to push away her only remaining friend.

"Santana?"

The Latina's head snapped up. Secretly she hoped it was Quinn. A small, tiny part of her hoped it was Brittany.

But it was Rachel.

And, yet, Santana didn't feel disappointed. She didn't even care that Rachel had found her crying - _again._ She was even a little happy to see Rachel, not that she would ever admit that. Even though Santana had secretly hoped that it was Quinn or Brittany, she was also glad that it was neither girl as she was still unsure of what she would say to either of them if confronted. Besides, Rachel was the only person left that Santana felt would listen to her - even if the diva was dating the girl she loved.

Santana wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, managing a small laugh. "We've got to stop meeting like this," she joked.

Rachel smiled faintly in response, stepping a little closer. Her brown hair was sticking to her face, her clothes soaked-through. "Are you okay?" she asked gently, although a little hesitant. Santana figured she was still a little apprehensive after the kiss.

"I'll be okay." Santana shrugged. "What are you doing out here?"

"Well"-Rachel cleared her throat-"you weren't in third period, and when you didn't show up to fourth, I suspected something might be wrong."

The Latina had forgotten that she shared most of her classes with Rachel. She usually ignored the short diva. "Why did you come looking?" Santana asked. She looked at Rachel with her head titled. Rachel had never cared about Santana's business, and Santana had never cared about Rachel's. To them, that's just how their relationship seemed to work.

Rachel sighed. She stepped up beside Santana and took a seat next to her on the ground, tucking her wet hair behind her ears. "Because despite our past conflict with one another, I still like to consider us friends, Santana. And as your friend, I was concerned about you." The shorter girl fiddled with her hands, smoothing out her skirt. "I checked everywhere before I spotted you out here."

Santana raised an eyebrow towards Rachel. _Friends._ Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez - _friends?_ If only sixteen-year-old Santana Lopez could see her now. But, weirdly, and yet not weirdly, being friends with Rachel sounded nice. For years they had been at each others throats, all over nothing, and the thought of finally putting their petty squabbling aside sounded nice. Especially now, since Santana seemed to be lacking in the friends department.

When Santana didn't reply, Rachel said, "But only if you want to be friends. I'd like it if we could be, though."

Santana turned to meet Rachel's gaze. There was a warmth behind the short diva's eyes and Santana found herself lost within them. Something strange stirred inside of her gut - something strangely familiar. The same intense warmth that had beheld her body the night she had kissed Rachel. Quickly, Santana looked away from Rachel and focused on her hands. "I'd like that, too. I could really use a friend right now."

The Latina could feel Rachel's gaze burning into the side of her head. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Sighing, Santana met Rachel's eyes once more. The shorter girl's gaze was sincere, earnest, and Santana found herself wanting to unload all of her problems upon Rachel. It was easy to talk to Rachel. Santana had never realised this about the diva before, but Rachel was a good listener. She had this way of making you feel completely comfortable and relaxed. She would lead in, keep her attention focused on you...and then she would tell you her truth, even if it hurt, because she cared too much not to.

"Shouldn't you be in class? Aren't you afraid you'll get in trouble?" Santana diverted the conversation. As much as she wanted to tell Rachel everything, she couldn't. She was scared. She was scared that Rachel might be able to see Santana as herself - see past the wall she'd built only to tear it down.

"It's only gym. No one really cares about gym. Besides, this is McKinley, when have they ever cared about a student skipping class? If they did, Noah would have been suspended or even expelled by now." Rachel shrugged, but her eyes never left Santana. "But we're not talking about me. We're talking about you. And since we're friends now, I demand you tell me what's wrong."

Rachel angled her body a little so that she was facing Santana. Her knee knocked against Santana's leg, and for a brief moment their skin touched, causing little pulses of electricity to dance across Santana's skin. The Latina tried to ignore the clenching of her stomach as she looked at Rachel. This was what she had wanted. She had wanted a friend. And Rachel was offering to be that friend. Sure, Rachel wasn't Quinn nor was she Brittany, but somehow that made everything easier. Because they were only friends, nothing more. That's why Santana chose to ignore the way her heart raced when their skin touched and the way her hands got clammy whenever Rachel looked at her. As of now, Santana needed a friend. She'd already acted on impulse once before, when she'd kissed Rachel in the bathroom, and she had ruined any chance of friendship with Brittany because of that. But Rachel seemed to be giving her a second chance, and Santana sure as hell wasn't going to screw it up.

Santana grumbled to herself, rubbing her tired eyes. "Okay. Fine. But you can't tell anyone. Not even Hummel. And I meant it, Berry. I'm not even sure I should tell you this because it doesn't only involve me," Santana said.

Rachel merely inched closer. "Cross my heart," the shorter girl said, using a finger to make a cross over her heart. The action caused a nostalgic pain to settle deep inside of Santana's chest.

 _Brittany used to do that._

Santana shook her head, ridding herself of old memories. She fingered the hem of her skirt. "I fucked everything up."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...I slept with Quinn and now everything is fucked up!"

Rachel's eyes widened. Her lips parted and she stuttered, fumbling for a coherent sentence. The shorter girl allowed herself a moment to process this new information before she replied, "You slept with Quinn?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yes, Berry, I slept with Quinn. Should I repeat myself?"

"Um, no." Rachel shook her head.

The Latina noticed the way Rachel's lip turned down and how her eyes seemed almost distant, like she was in the process of a deep thought. But she decided not to comment on it. Now right now, anyway. "It was at Puck's party. We were both desperate, I suppose, and really drunk. Somehow we stumbled towards the bedroom and I woke up the next morning lying next to her."

Rachel twisted her lips. "So, you regret sleeping with Quinn?"

"No." The sex was really good. "Yes." It had ruined their friendship. _Santana_ had ruined their friendship.

"Yes or no?"

Santana sighed deeply. "No. I suppose I don't. I don't regret sleeping with Quinn because I like her. I like her a fucking lot!" The sudden outburst not only shocked Rachel, but shocked Santana herself. The Latina groaned, hitting her head against the wall behind her. She couldn't believe she had admitted that to herself, much less Rachel Berry. When had her life gotten this complicated? When had her life got this fucked up? She glanced at Rachel out of the corner of her eye, only to find Rachel watching her intensely.

"So, what went wrong?"

"I did. I went wrong. I fucked up - _again._ Just like I fucked everything up with Brittany because I'm messed up. I'm so messed up that I can't even allow myself to be happy. Quinn wanted to go on a date or something, and I said no. I told her we were only casual. I pushed her away because she was beginning to get too close and I didn't want to hurt her."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "You didn't want to hurt her?"

 _Shit._ Santana hadn't meant to divulge _everything_ to Rachel. Only the basics. But the Latina felt this need within her to get it out, to finally talk to someone other than herself. Rachel was the last person that Santana ever expected to tell all of her dirty secrets to, yet she felt as if Rachel wouldn't judge her. In this one moment, Santana felt that Rachel might be able to understand her more than anyone else ever would.

Santana took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I don't know why I do it. But whenever someone gets close - when it seems like they care - I push them away. I feel like I'm suffocating. I end it early because I know, at some point, it will end. And it hurts them less if I do it early." Santana looked at Rachel, only the shorter girl was already staring back with a deep intensity. "Whatever. I don't know. It sounds stupid." Santana tried to shrug it off. It wasn't easy to explain and now she felt stupid for even trying. Rachel wouldn't understand.

"It doesn't sound stupid," Rachel spoke lowly, her voice soft. Santana met her eyes again. There was something gut-wrenchingly familiar behind Rachel's eyes; something fearsome and lonely. "I understand."

The Latina stared at Rachel. "How?"

The rain had lightened, but hadn't stopped completely. For a short moment, neither girl said anything, until Rachel sighed and leaned heavily against the wall behind her. "I understand because I used to feel that way. When I was with Finn, I accepted the way he treated me because I felt like that was the way I deserved to be treated. I attached myself to Finn because I felt like he was the only person that would ever love me." Rachel reached out and grabbed Santana's hand, entwining their cold fingers. The Latina was startled. She glanced down at their hands, feeling tingles dance across her flesh. "I don't think you're afraid of hurting people, Santana. I think you tell yourself that to avoid the truth: that you're afraid of getting hurt. And it's okay to feel that way...to feel like you have to push them away because you don't deserve them. That's how I felt about Brittany. For awhile, it seemed almost unreal. At any moment, I expected Brittany to turn around and tell me it was all a joke - and then she'd just got running back into your arms. Even now I don't feel like I deserve her. I still expect her to realise that she could have someone better." Rachel clenched Santana's hand tighter. "You're afraid, just like I was...and still am sometimes. You're afraid that if you allow yourself to be loved, it'll only cause you heartache in the end."

And there it was - Rachel's truth. Except the truth hit Santana harder than she realised it would. And yet, this was what she had been needing - what she had needed someone to tell her because she was too damn stubborn to admit it to herself. This was why Rachel had to be the one to tell her. This was why Rachel, above Quinn and Brittany, needed to be the one who Santana talked to. Because Quinn would have been too brutal, and instead of talking Santana would have only argued back...and then she would have ran, like she ran away from most complicated things in her life, as it was too hard to face. And it couldn't have been Brittany, either, as Brittany was too nice to be honest enough the way Rachel had been.

Santana glanced down at her hand entwined with Rachel's, feeling her eyes begin to swell with tears. It was true. All of it. Rachel was bold enough to say all of the things Santana had been afraid to admit. And, yes, it hurt to finally admit to it all - but it also felt good. Santana felt relieved, as if she could finally breath after drowning for so long.

Maybe all along Rachel's friendship had been what Santana needed. Because although Rachel Berry was loud, ambitious and somewhat obnoxious; she wasn't a quitter. She never gave up on the things she believed in or wanted, even if those things seemed so far out of reach. Perhaps that's what Santana needed. Maybe that's what she _wanted._ She wanted, for the first time, for someone not to give up on her. Even if she made it difficult. She wanted someone who wouldn't let go when things got tough - even if Santana tried her hardest to push them away. She wanted someone to call her out on her bullshit, but she didn't want to fight; she just wanted to talk. She needed someone like Rachel who wasn't afraid of a challenge. She needed someone like Rachel who wouldn't give up on her.

She needed Rachel.

"I'm jealous of you, you know," Santana admitted after a moment. She looked up to meet Rachel's confused gaze. The Latina laughed at the expression on Rachel's face, consciously aware of the fact that their hands were still entwined. "Don't make this weird, okay, Berry. I'm trying to be honest with you. Y'know, since we're _friends_."

"Why would you be jealous of me?"

Santana shrugged. "Because...you're so untroubled by yourself. You accept who you are, and no matter what you refuse to change for other people. You don't let anyone get you down, even when it seems like the whole world is against you. I thought I used to be like that. But the truth is, I'm not that person. I don't accept myself."

Rachel squeezed Santana's hand tightly. "Maybe it's time you learn how to accept yourself."

Santana looked at Rachel hopelessly. "How do I do that?" It felt strange to be relying on Rachel for the answer to a question Santana had asked herself many times. She felt weak asking for help, yet she knew Rachel wasn't judging her.

"I think you should start by talking to Brittany and Quinn. You should tell them everything you've told me. Help them understand."

Santana shook her head. "I don't think I can."

"Listen," Rachel said, tugging at Santana's hand to gather her attention. "I'm going to help you. I told you before, we're friends now. And friends help each other. I'm not going to let you do this alone."

The intensity behind Rachel's eyes made Santana take a deep breath. Who would have thought that Rachel, of all people, would be the one to understand Santana the most? Santana found herself nodding along, a small smile working its way onto her lips. Help sounded nice. She'd been wandering alone though the darkness for so long that any kind of help would be welcomed. "You know what, Berry, you're not so bad," Santana joked.

Rachel laughed in response. "You're not so bad yourself."

By now the rain had stopped and the sun was starting to poke out from behind the clouds. Rachel squeezed Santana's hand once more before letting it go and standing up from the ground. The short diva smoothed out her skirt, brushing away the dirt it had acquired from sitting on the ground. "Come on," Rachel said, reaching out her hand to help Santana up from the ground. "We should get cleaned up."

Santana allowed Rachel to help her up from the ground and together they began to walk back towards the school.

And as they walked through the hallways, Santana found herself glancing at Rachel.

Hopefully, she'd be okay.

Hopefully, Rachel wouldn't give up on her.

* * *

 **So, this chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I felt like this chapter needed to end here. For me, it wouldn't have been right to add anything more.**

 **The inspiration for this chapter came from the song _You'll Be Okay_ by A Great Big World, which you should totally go check out because it's amazing! It's been in my head all day - and will probably annoy the hell out of me for the rest of the week. Anyhow, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Any feedback is greatly appreciated! :)**


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